


Damaged Goods

by NocturnalDivide



Category: Borderlands, Borderlands 3
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Ava is Older, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Give this fool a redemption arc GB plz, Height Differences, Inferiority Complex, Multi, Slow Burn, Troy is a hurty boi, emotional incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 78,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalDivide/pseuds/NocturnalDivide
Summary: You can’t completely save damaged goods.But you can definitely salvage what’s left and start over.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> -Takes a deep breath-
> 
> fuk u borderlands 3 plot
> 
> my old ass was waiting for a sequel for 7 whole yearsssss
> 
> the story had such wasted potential it fukken sucked like what
> 
> u literally wrote it as a setup to a sequel and it shows you cash grabbin fucks
> 
> -end rant-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I was so intensely dissatisfied with the first pass. Corrected some stuff. Hope it reads out better.

** Damaged Goods: Prologue **

* * *

Troy Calypso may not have been a brave man, but he was cunning and opportunistic. He operated on a vicious set of beliefs that separated him from regular men. 

For the longest time in his life, he had always thought that he was  _nothing_ . He had grown up sickly and fearful. He was a frail boy who was dependent on his sister, who grew into an even frailer adult. He was physically weak. Even with the strong façade, he knew he was only going to get weaker and eventually die. Even with the large amounts of energy Tyreen’s powers had pulled in from their cult, it was sustaining him less. There was enormous void that only grew larger, a void that he feared would overtake him. 

When the Siren on Promethea captured him, Troy had felt _terror. _He was a vicious fighter, but preferred to have his sister fight for him. Troy had reflexively grabbed her wrist in an effort to fight her off. The next thing he knew, some long dormant an instinct woke up and roared up within him, urging him to defend himself. He could feel an alien yet, familiar power coursing through his body. It was alien in the feeling that he had never used it before. It was familiar as he _knew_ it was the same power Tyreen used to sustain him.

Once Troy had tasted the power, he couldn’t control himself. 

He dusted her before he realized he could stop it. She was there one second, then turned to dust in the next. 

After she had disintegrated away, Troy had only felt a glimmer of remorse. It was quickly smothered by awe and then perverted glee. For once in his life, he finally felt  _ complete. _

And after he had stolen her powers, he knew an opportunity when he saw one.

Troy no longer wanted to be relegated the role of a shadow. A parasite. He tired of Tyreen belittling him. He tired of the filthy mouth-breathers who doubted him. Troy Calypso was going to angrily prove once and for all that he was worthy of the title of “God-King.”

So he began planning and concocting. His plan was brilliant. His father had told the twins tall tales that he hungrily latched onto. Troy had an excellent memory. The stories that his father, Typhon DeLeon, had told him finally made sense, and he knew what to do. He knew that Elpis was the key to waking the Destroyer. The silver-tongued propagandist was always known for thinking one step ahead. 

He was incredibly cocksure that he was more than powerful enough to defeat the group of Vault Thieves in his midst. After all, who could defeat the power of a near god?

His hubris would ultimately prove to be his own downfall.

No one could deny that he wasn’t a powerful being. But he wasn’t a complete Siren. His powers were only one part of the equation, with the other belonging to his much stronger and able-bodied sister. Even with newly acquired powers and sheer determined grit, there were still shortcomings. He had vastly overestimated himself.

Troy Calypso had fizzled like a firework, flashy and bright, then out within moments.

The extreme physical exertion of battle, plus the strain of Eridium had been too much for his frail body to handle. He had lost the fight back in the Cathedral of the Twin Gods. He collapsed beside his sister in a pathetic heap, his life leaving him. Just as the Vault Hunters thought that the Calypso Twins were surely dead, Tyreen had sprung up, livid and determined. Troy hadn’t killed his sister, despite leeching vast amounts of energy from her. Transference was a mysterious thing.

The ground shook ominously, rocking the fractured desert landscape of Pandora. The Vault Hunters could hear a distant roar, as if it came from the very core of Pandora itself.

“Do you feel that? There’s a god waking up beneath our feet.” She swaggered towards the Vault Hunters, a casual but confident jaunt to her step.

“Once the Destroyer is free, I’ll leech it. And when that happens, I’ll be the only star left in the sky.” She grinned impossibly wide at them, showing all teeth. An determined glint was in her icy blue eyes as she approached the stunned group.

Bat-like wings erupted from her back as she floated upwards into the sky. The Vault Hunters watched in terrified awe as she floated upwards towards the sky. Her grin twisted into a monstrous snarl.

_ “ Buh-bye  now!” _

Tyreen launched herself up into the air and then savagely slammed into the ground. She had shattered the Eridian statues surrounding the area. She teleported upwards again. Using her powers, she savagely brought them down on the group. Rocks and debris crackled, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. 

After the dust cleared, all that had remained were a pile of rocks, with the Vault Thieves surely meeting a gruesome death underneath them. The God-Queen cast a long, scathing glance at the rocks. When no movement was apparent, she let out a tired, but amused scoff.

_“Heh.”_

Believing her pesky Vault Thief problem had been dealt with, she turned to her dying twin brother. There was still unfinished business to take care of. She casually sauntered beside him, surveying the mess that was her younger twin brother.

His complete and utter dismissal of his sister during the battle had only served to enrage her. Troy was confident that by leeching his sister, he had a momentous chance at winning. He was never this reckless, but given that he had been so intoxicated off of the Eridium, he hadn’t given a shit about her wellbeing. Tyreen had given Troy a disdainful look as he lay writhing on the ground. The look that Tyreen gave her brother was something he was all too familiar with. It when Tyreen used her followers to serve as a meal. Now, her wrath had been turned on her own flesh and blood.

His metal arm had shattered in several dozen places. It’s integrity had been largely compromised during the fight with the Vault Thieves. It had fallen apart when he tried using an eridium pillar a final time, in a desperate attempt to smash the Vault Hunters. The once monstrous mechanical arm was now nothing more than sparking bits of wire holding together useless metallic chunks. What wasn’t held together was now laying scattered around his inert form.

In Troy’s pain-addled brain, he vaguely thought he must have looked like a sorry sight. Indeed, Tyreen’s stern countenance softened at the sight. Troy was always so sickly, so helpless. She crouched and knelt beside him. She stroked his hair, something she often did when they were younger to calm him down. The gesture was kind, too kind, for someone as remorseless as Tyreen. 

“Well, Troy. I think you’re at the end of your line, bro.” Tyreen’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. She gave his head one final, affectionate pat. Tyreen’s eyes became cold and the touch became robotic.

_“Please... sis...”_ Troy croaked, eyes pleading and pathetic. There was no turning back. The fearful part of brain knew what was going happen. A part he feared would become an eventuality. Her mind was already made up. She grinned, effortlessly wrenching his limpid form off the ground by his hair. Troy was on his knees, forced to look up at his sister like a trained dog.

_“T-Ty...” _ He wheezed out helplessly. He tried to pry her off with his remaining hand. It was a fruitless endeavor. Tyreen was always stronger.

“Oh, don’t worry, Troy. I’ll put your noble sacrifice to great use.” She said in a soft, reassuring voice. There was an undercurrent of spitefulness to it. At first, the leeching process felt subtle, almost like his skin was warming up. Then it grew intense in a matter of seconds. He could feel the tendrils of her power forcing itself under his skin, coursing through him and reaching deep into his pores. If he could, he would have been screaming from the painful, searing sensation that slowly was eating him from the inside out. The power seemed to steal the very breath out of him. 

Perhaps it was his Siren genetics, but he didn’t turn to an outright husk. Perhaps it was because of the huge energy that he consumed in due part to his parasitic nature. Maybe Tyreen purposefully drew it out slower, wanting him to suffer for what she perceived as his insolence. After all, she said they tasted better when they were afraid.

“Once I absorb you, I’ll be the only star left in the sky. And I have you to thank.” She grinned down at him. Her brother, as goofy and parasitic and  useless as he was, was now useful at the bitter end. His flayed red Siren tattoos flared brightly as she drew out more of his life, then dulled to a dark, ugly red as she leeched more and more and  more . Tyreen grinned, a malicious yet satisfied glint in her eyes.

She was about to fully leech him. A few precious seconds and he surely would have met the same fate as Maya. Turned to dust, then scattered about to the merciless winds of Pandora’s desert. A bullet whizzed by, mere inches from her face.

_“Stop!” _ A voice shouted from seemingly nowhere.

Tyreen swung her head up at the intruder, irate. She grinned at the little girl. She was the apprentice of the dead Siren. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember her name. Troy was momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, it’s you. Little Blue.” Tyreen grinned at the pesky blue-haired gnat. If she had the time, she would have leeched her too.

Tyreen had taken the energy her brother amassed and then threw Troy’s near lifeless husk of a body to the ground. She looked up at the enlarged moon looming overhead. He loyal brother had pulled Elpis close enough to Pandora to rouse and anger the Destroyer. She didn’t bother taking the dead Siren’s powers from Troy. There was no use when use when she was about to become a god.

“Thanks, bro.” She winked and pointed at him, shooting a finger gun in his direction.

She teleported away, her daunting laughter trailing the desert winds. Ava crouched beside him. Troy barely remembered the pitying glance she gave him, certain he was dying. He _knew_ he was dying. His vision was glazing over and becoming blurry. She touched his shoulder and rolled him to his side to check on him, only to pull her hand away in surprise as she felt something coursing through her. The man barely reacted when Ava had took his Siren powers. Or rather, what was rightfully  _ hers . _

She looked almost beautiful as she was enveloped in an ethereal blue bubble. She cleared the rocks away, letting the Vault Hunters in. Ava gave the man one last glance. In a way, she had saved his life. Not that it would have mattered anyways.

After Tyreen had escaped from Pandora, she hadn’t given her twin brother a second thought. She was hellbent on reaching godhood. Troy had more than served his purpose, a mere pinprick in her memories. He was the last tie she severed. 

He hadn’t resisted when he was chained up, and blindfolded and thrown onto on a ship. He was far too delirious and in pain to even care. Much later, he was then thrown into a dark cell without so much as a trial. His restraints and blindfold had been removed.

His cell was small and dark, made more oppressive and cramped with the thick and imposing metal door. He figured they knew he wouldn’t escape. The death of Tyreen meant he was a flesh paperweight with dull space tattoos. A small window was overhead, letting in some weak, artificial light. There was enough overhead clearance where he was allowed a good two feet, so thankfully he could stand at his full height. It didn’t matter anyways. Feeling around in the relative darkness, there was a small bunk where he predictably couldn’t fit, a sink that had tepid water, and a toilet.

Comfortable, he thought sarcastically, looking around the cramped enclosure. Troy sat down on the bunk and ran a hand through his unruly hair. The haze of delirium cleared somewhat. 

Hours later, he felt distant rumbling, wondering what the hell was the source. He heard not a day afterwards that Tyreen had died, killed stone dead after she had absorbed the Destroyer. He supposed he should feel relieved. Afterall, Tyreen nearly succeeded in killing him. But he felt apathetic when some teal haired lady dropped into his cell and delivered the news. Whatever fight he possessed left him.

Without his twin sister to sustain him, Troy knew he didn’t have long. His self-preservation and cowardice won out in the end. Perhaps being captured by the enemy was worth it. He was far more cool-headed than Tyreen.

And dying on a live ECHOCast? Shit was way uncool.

He let out ragged cough. One cough turned to several and then it evolved into long, painful fit. Pain lanced through his frame. It wasn’t the first one since his capture, and it wasn’t going to be the last.After a few minutes, it finally ceased. He waited for his breathing to even out. 

With a defeated shrug, he laid out on the bunk. This wouldn’t take long. Two days since Tyreen was killed and he could feel his own pulse weaken. The longest he had gone on without being sustained by Tyreen was a week before he was in agonizing pain. 

He hoped to expire at four. He could feel himself just at the cusp of his life. His Siren tattoos were burning his skin, but the pain didn’t register anymore. He felt his consciousness slipping. 

This was it.  He always thought if he kicked the bucket, it’d at least be in a blaze of glory. And he was damned near close.

Then again, to quietly die alone seemed a far better fate than being slaughtered by Vault Thieves.

The spiteful troll in him hoped his tall corpse would give the cleaners trouble.

His eyes slid close, almost like he was going to sleep.

Fate had different plans for Troy Calypso. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can’t believe i did it! i couldn’t help myself
> 
> the moment we see our edgi ratboi bastard hit on Ava in his own creepy ratboi way I got ideas in my head
> 
> if you’re gonna eviscerate me do it lightly plz~


	2. Wish You Were Here

* * *

** Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd **

_ What have we found?  _

_ The same old fears.  _

_ Wish you were here . _

* * *

Athenas was the very definition of serenity. Despite being placed in the middle of a violently chaotic universe, it had remained isolated and pacifistic. Ava had no intention of ever visiting this place ever again. But she had a reason now. She had taken precious time off to see the reveal of Maya’s statue.

Her hand gently traced over the monument. She would have loved it here. The place was situated outside of Dido’s Remorse. It was near waterfall where her mentor loved to train and meditate. Ava, the apprentice of the legendary Siren, had asked if the Order of the Six Storms to make a monument for her mentor. The monks had built it with little hesitation. The marble from where her monument came from was carried down from the cliffs near the cemetery. Athenas, despite its serene atmosphere, paradoxically had chaotically stormy weather. The storms had buffeted the sides of the mountains until they had become glassy and smooth. It was the perfect medium to portray the dearly departed Siren. 

Brother Mendel was a deft sculptor. It seemed as though the lush, hedonistic monk had critical eye for art and he was more than happy to carve the memorial for Athenas’ protector. It had taken him a painstaking year to carve out the statue of Maya, but the results were breathtaking. It was almost lifelike, especially with the way it was positioned to greet the rising sun. She was poised rather gracefully, her hands opened outwards to the sky in the Order’s sign for galaxial peace. It had been set on a solid base, with a gold brass plate bearing a short epitaph. 

_ “MAYA - Vault Hunter, Honored Savior, Beloved Friend” _

Ava had nearly burst into tears at the ceremony for the statue’s reveal. Besides the statue, another surprise awaited her that day. 

Maya’s friends and fellow Vault Hunters had been there as well. Salvador, Axton, Zer0 and Gaige shown up, as well as Team-B, and the third generation of Vault Hunters. While Ava had never seen the second generation of Vault Hunters, she knew who they were from Maya’s many stories. She had thanked each one of them personally. 

The only one that hadn’t been present was Krieg. According to Gaige, he was on Pandora and went missing ever since. Ava had heard a great deal of stories from her mentor from Maya. Ava resolved to find him, and hopefully to apologize. She just hoped she wasn’t too late. 

Many of the Vault Hunters had moved to the Storm Brewin’ bar where they let out their grief and recalled fond memories for their beautiful blue-haired Siren friend. Ava had declined. No one pushed it. 

Long after the crowd dispersed, Ava had faithfully stayed by her mentor’s memorial during the night, keeping vigil. Before she knew it, dawn had slowly risen over Athenas. The monks were already waking for their morning sermons, preparing for the tasks they were going to carry out for the day. 

No one had bothered the young Siren commander. The residents figured that she needed time to grieve. 

Instead, the quietness gave Ava time to reflect. 

Now that she had allowed herself some time to relax and ruminate, that was when she decided to let herself have a small tear at Maya’s passing. 

Ava hurriedly wiped it away. Even when she was alone, she had to remind herself not to show weakness. Anyone could watch. She pulled back her hood and let it fall. Her indigo blue hair had gotten long in the past year. She had considered cutting it short again, but she liked the length. It made her look graceful and feminine. It reminded her of Maya. 

The young Siren had gathered a bouquet of rare blue-purple lilies in her arms. She had spent the morning scouring Athenas’ mountain sides for them, when she briefly left the statue to leave something as a sign of respect. 

Flowers, incense, and candles that had been placed withveneration at the statue’s base. After some deliberation, Ava placed the bouquet of colorful lilies near the statue’s feet, taking careful not to disturb the other offerings. The bright violet of the lilies was a bright punch of color among the countless other offerings. It was a cheerful contrast to the otherwise solemn and serious air of Dido’s Remorse. Well, Maya was a rebel who hated tradition. She hoped Maya would appreciate the gesture. 

Ava refused to grieve for Maya’s death. That sorrow could come later. Instead, she threw herself into her role as the Commander.

The Siren Commander’s beginning had been a lackluster start. Ava hadn’t started out as a Siren like Maya or Lilith. She was an ordinary, orphaned girl. Granted, she was just about as old they were when they began as career Vault Hunters. After fleeing the wars on Promethea, Ava was largely sheltered. A life on the serene Athenas had softened her up somewhat. 

Lilith had given the role of Ava to be Commander of the Raiders. There was no room to refuse. Given how unstable the universe was, her role was instrumental to ensure that the Vaults would not fall into the wrong hands. Someone like Tyreen Calypso could rise up again, eager to claim the power inside of the Vaults.

Ava was eager and ready to prove herself. 

Except, as a Commander, she didn’t know where the hell to start.

The girl didn’t have the commanding confidence of Lilith, or the cool-headedness of Maya. To the other Raiders, she was just a child who had the dumb luck of being thrust into a role of leadership because she was given fancy space magic. 

Sometimes, it wasn’t what you knew, but who. 

Ava, given her youth and inexperience, had no idea what to do. She was seventeen, and a young seventeen at that. When the adrenaline of adventuring wore off, Ava felt nothing but sheer terror. 

After Maya’s death, she had stayed on Sanctuary like she was supposed to. Trauma from her mentor’s death and internalized guilt were strong motivating factors. In reality, she hadn’t done much in her short tenure with the Raiders. Her abrasive, brash attitude had rubbed many of the Raiders the wrong way, so she mostly confined herself to her room or the bridge.

Now, she was expected to take on the role of leadership. 

Already, Ava had been pulled in different directions. Mercenaries to train, recruits to oversee, important decisions that needed her opinions. It had gotten to be too much by the third day. She was overwhelmed with panic. She fled into her room and refused to come out for several days. 

The cynical veteran members had doubted her from the start. A vocal majority was enraged and let their displeasure be known. Others were resentful. The universe was a chaotic place, and many were uncertain that their fate be decided by a mere girl. An unspoken, unanimous question had been raised amongst the doubting crowd. 

_ What was Lilith thinking?  _

Any one of the former Vault Hunters could have been a suitable candidate for Commander, they said. Not a damn kid. She was in over her head, they said. 

While Ava hid away in her room, there were murmurings of a possibly mutiny. The Crimson Raiders planned to overthrow Ava’s leadership by putting in a vote on who to appoint as the new Commander. The possible candidates were Moze, FL4K, Zane, or Amara. None had accepted. They were all in unwavering support of their commander. Moxxi, Ellie, and Tannis had also shown unwavering support for Ava. And anyone who didn’t agree with Moxxi would be blacklisted and banned from her establishments across the six galaxies. It was enough to stave off the grumbling masses, at least, for now. 

Shutting herself into her room might have what been what Ava needed. After that harrowing anxiety attack, she had calmed herself down enough to remember the training exercises. She imagined herself staring at the pool of Serenity on a quiet night on Athenas, with the crescent moon hanging high overhead. As it had turned out, the meditation sessions she had often complained about were giving her incredible internal focus. 

Ava had emerged from her room, uncertain, but calmer and ready to take on what was needed to be the Commander of the Raiders. 

She had to mature quickly. Gone were the days of of being an immature apprentice with longing dreams to travel space. Now, she was living it. 

The reality had far more bloodshed than she had imagined. It began to truly sink in when Athenas was attacked. Being orphaned from the corporate wars gave her an edge. But it was Maya’s training and her own quick thinking that she survived. Being associated with a Siren by proxy was hazardous, if her encounter with the Calypsos was anything to go by. Becoming a Siren made her a prime target for anyone who deemed them a threat.

By the second month of commandeering, her phaselocking powers had become instinctive. She no longer had use intense concentration to summon her powers. To further herself, she had taken to studiously translating the Eridian book Maya left for her. Ava needed to be battle ready. She also acquired a surprising wealth of military tactics from Zane Flynt. She learned how handle heavier weapons from Moze, and the art of stealth from FL4K.

By month four, she had taken up a physical regimen. Being a leader was a strenuous responsibility. While Ava had never been out of shape, she was waifish and smaller than someone of her age. Delicate. It wasn’t a good look for someone who was the Commander of the Raiders. She needed to have a strong body withstand the daily stressors of command. She began training with Amara to develop self defense. Maya may had been a strict mentor, but Amara was nearly unforgiving. Ava had her ass kicked many times over, but with each successive fight, she forces herself to be humble and she learned. The older Siren had taught her that her body was the best weapon, and that it should be honed and sharpened. While Ava couldn’t get Amara’s admitted enviable physique, she had developed some muscle definition on her petite frame. 

By the seventh month, her Siren powers had significantly matured. She could successfully throw up a phaseshield instinctually, changing its size at will. To really challenge herself, she began to assemble complex puzzles with her phaselocking powers to broaden her focus. Much to her glee, she could picklock doors merely by feeling out its internal workings. Those powers had saved her skin more times than she could count. 

By the time a year had passed, Ava had fallen into the role of Commander. She shouldered the responsibility of an entire crew. She had formed a partnership with ATLAS to form the Crimson Alliance. Ava no longer felt like an insecure, invalid little load. There were still kinks to work out, but she had turned out far better from where she initially started.

Ava stared up the statue. The sun’s rays began to caress and highlight the high cheekbones of Maya’s face. 

“Hey, Maya.” She said to the statue. “Hope you’ve finally found peace, wherever you are now.” Ava had a tenuous belief of the afterlife. After spending time on Athenas, especially around a group as devoutly religious as the Order, it was hard to remain skeptical. 

The statue didn’t reply, of course. Ava continued her one-sided conversation. 

“This past year has been hectic, to put it lightly.” Ava chuckled sadly, hand running along the brass plate. 

She desperately wished to hear one of Maya’s dry quips. Her mentor never had that in short supply. 

“I miss you everyday.” Ava sheepishly admitted. “Totally uncool, huh?” 

The statue, as always, remained silent. If Maya were alive, she’d offer some words of comfort. Maybe she’d tease Ava. 

Ava thought that she was going to be Vault Hunter and live out her dreams. But in reality, she was still involved in an all out corporate war. There was still bloodshed. Many of the bandits she fought over the past year were leftovers from a constant corporate war who resorted to violence to survive. Ava was surprised at the violence she was capable of, when she fought for her own survival. She didn’t seem any better than the bandits. She hoped she was on the right side. 

The Children of the Vault were still dangerous contenders. It seemed even without Tyreen, the bandits clans were still unified under the same bloodstained banner. And they were in the billions. 

She remembered that Troy was captured after their fight. The last she heard of him, he had been resigned to ATLAS’ prison. 

She hoped that rat-faced bastard suffered and then rotted away there.

Though the Calypso Twins had been dealt with, she had another thing on her plate, aside from the bloodthirsty bandits. 

While Maliwan lost Katagawa Jr., former CEO and head of Mergers and Acquisitions, distant relatives from Katagawa dynasty had suddenly popped up like bloodthirsty ratchlings. They were ready and eager to keep the war for the Vaults alive, and to further line their pockets with blood money. 

The Crimson Raiders had countless skirmishes with both the COV and Maliwan, with Ava leading the forefront. She bloomed under the extreme duress. With every hard fought battle, she seemed to get closer to her idea of what of a Commander should be. 

She had assisted ATLAS and Jakobs where she could. Ava went around the universe, delivering aid to to those whose lives were afflicted by the COV. 

She should have been thrilled. She grew as a person. Yet, it felt like something was missing. 

An intrinsic part of her.

Ava still couldn’t forgive herself. She couldn’t accept what happened over a year ago. She still lashed out and got defensive. Eventually, the other Vault Hunters gave up and trying to talk to her about Maya. 

The haze of depression never quite lifted from Ava. While she had never been outright sad, she had never been happy either. She hated how she indifferent she felt on some days. The loss of both Lilith and Maya had made her melancholy and disconsolate. Much to her shame, she often felt she had bluffed and blustered her way into leadership. There were still days that she resigned herself to her room.

Some crew members were still doubtful of her leadership on those days. She often threw herself into work harder and resolved not to let them down. 

Some days were harder than others, but Ava shouldered it on her own and without complaint. Amara was there to help, in her own way. She had taken to Ava like a little sister. But for the most part, she had assumed responsibility of leadership for herself. 

Some days... she silently admitted that she missed being an apprentice. Those days also made her think.

Did Maya anticipate something like this? Did Maya know that she was going to die? Ava didn’t want to think things like this, but there had been a possibility that one day, Maya had contemplated her own mortality. 

But her mentor always seemed so invincible. So, powerful. Perhaps she intended to transfer the hardship of a Siren onto another after the horrors she witnessed on Pandora almost a decade ago. Thatmade her more human, more vulnerable in Ava’s eyes. 

Ava had always idolized Maya, but she found that the life of the Siren was a hard one. Maya told her stories. They were grand stories, great stories. Thinking back on it now, Ava had always internally glamorized it, made it more romantic and adventurous than it actually was. 

Or maybe, she never wanted to listen. 

_ Sometimes, the hardest lessons you learn involve losing something dear to you.  _ She could hear Maya say. 

Ava could understand why Maya went back to Athenas. Ten years of hard fighting and anyone would want to hang up their gun and retire. Some days, Ava felt like she was eighteen going on twenty-eight to eighty. 

Ava patted the base of the statue. Brother Mendel really had captured Maya’s larger than life persona. Her ECHO let out a shrill beep. She sighed, answering the ECHO. 

“This is the Commander of the Crimson Raiders.” She sternly answered. 

“You good, stringbean?” Ellie’s voice was soft.

“Oh, hi Ellie.” She sheepishly greeted.

“Look, I hate to interrupt yer personal time, but we’ve found another one of them COV sumbitches on Eden-3. The Raiders need ya.” 

“I’ll be there in a few.” Ava ended the ECHO transmission with a half-hearted sigh.

“Until we meet again.” Ava sadly murmured. She flipped up her hood scarf and walked away, towards an uncertain future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using song titles for chapters 
> 
> so original~


	3. Hey You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not gonna lie, I’m in love with Max Mittelman’s voice
> 
> I would hella marry it 
> 
> Also I made a stupid reference to one of the characters he voices plz forgive me -kowtows-

* * *

**Hey You - Pink Floyd**

_No matter how he tried_

_He could not break free_

_And the worms ate into his brain_

* * *

While another Siren on the different side of the universe was quickly reaching maturation, another one slowly turned to introspection. 

A week had passed. Troy was awake, staring wide-eyed and horrified at the ceiling. Thoughts were rushing through his ever analytical brain, going a mile a minute. 

Why wasn’t he dead? Shouldn’t he have been dead by now? 

He expected to feel horrible pain. He expected to wither away slowly. As much as he knew about Vaults and Eridian lore, he knew paradoxically little about his own Siren heritage. 

He inexplicably felt  _stronger._

Troy was always frail and sickly. Like planets spinning around a sun in a solar system, Tyreen had sustained him so that he could live. That was the way it had always been. That was the natural order of the Calypsos. He was the parasite and she, the provider. Shortly after that teal haired woman delivered the news, he thought he was going to kick the bucket.

The racking coughs that afflicted him daily were lessening. His existence felt less like that of a parasite, and more like he was recovering from a mysterious illness. When the painful haze of sickness passed, he felt he could breathe easily. Except now, he was very much alive. If he wasn’t in this cell, he probably would have been jumping for joy.

_ How fucking ironic.  _

A week had passed, and his coughs ceased all together. He felt healthier than ever for the first time in his life. Did Tyreen... did his sister dying free him from being a Siren? From what he could in the low light in his cell, his Siren tattoos were still there.

“What in the fuck is goin’ on?” He muttered to no one. His stomach let out a growl of protest. He supposed that none of these musings would matter if he starved to death. Granted, he never really ate, thanks to Tyreen’s powers, but now he was downgraded to a regular human. Probably.

As if someone was reading his thoughts, a small door screeched open at the bottom of his cell. Troy saw the shadow of a boot, then a hand, and a metal small tray clattered in. Before Troy could yell “Hey!” the small slot immediately screeched shut. 

He plucked the contents off of the tray and it a digi-structed away. Troy rubbed his thumb over it. He held it up to the light and found that it was a white dry cracker. Feeling slightly ridiculous, he took a sniff and then bit into it. It was food. Like those sad emergency rations he and Tyreen ate when they escaped from Nekrotafeyo. He supposed that someone was keeping surveillance on him, knew that he was alive. There was probably a camera hiding in his cell somewhere, but he doesn’t bother finding it. It would only make him look suspicious. Troy ate the cracker without complaint. It was tasteless and slightly chalky. Only sipping water from the sink had made it palatable. 

He wondered why was he feeling better. If Tyreen died, did that mean he inherited her powers? He didn’t feel any different, in fact, he felt just fine. It was unsettling to feel normal. And bitterly ironic. Troy decided to try and experiment. 

Using his rations, he caught a wandering ratch with the intent to leech it. Instead, he was rewarded with a vicious series of scratches on his hand. He viciously crushed the fucker under his boot. 

Even in the relative darkness of cell, his tattoos were still there, but they weren’t glowing. He could imagine an arm tracing his Siren tattoos. It felt like... something was dormant. Like it was lying in wait. But he had no idea how to wake it up. 

A month had passed. Maybe. The only thing that helped him keep time was his daily delivery of food. The time spent in containment was eroding away his sanity. Living on a planet of dust and demons forced him to get creative. Troy, so used to growing up with little, had to start from scratch again. 

So the man started to use his brain for something. Troy took mental stock of what that lump of grey matter could do and came up with several things. He could never turn his brain off if he tried, anyways. He started doing advanced astroarithmetric calculations in his head. If he got bored with math, he could recall the hundreds of stories his father told him. If he got bored with either, then he could work out. Troy was so fucking emaciated, but he could stand to gain some on his gangly frame. The rations were strangely filling. With a wry grin, Troy supposed he could always improve on his beatboxing skills.

In the relative darkness of that cell, a pressing question has invaded his head. Something had been bothering him. If Tyreen had died by some freak accident when they were first on Pandora, what could he have done? 

“What could I have done differently?” He muttered to no one in particular. Only Troy Calypso could answer that question. Troy considered himself a deep thinker. Pondering the existence of his mortality was always a morbid fascination of his. 

By the end of the second month, he was able to chart a path from Pandora to Nekrotafeyo with optimal coefficients on fuel and without the use of a hyperdrive system, all in his head. When he flew the metaphorical coop with his sister, they had spent months flying blind in space before reaching Pandora with nothing but sheer determination and an outdated ECHO with a weak signal. 

By the fourth, feelings of guilt and shame started to assail him. All the mayhem he caused and the blood that was split, had kept him awake for nights at a time. There hadn’t been just crazy bandits that he recruited to the COV... There was innocent people on Pandora, trying to desperately survive. There had been children. None had a choice to refuse.

Troy started to mutter the question like a mantra. He wasn’t even aware that he was muttering it out loud. 

It was his idea for many of the sacrificial offerings. Those who weren’t fit to serve the purpose of the COV were culled for the God-Queen’s meals. He remembered laughing in crazed glee when the elderly were leeched for the first time... How Tyreen cruelly commented that they stank like liver and ointment. 

It was amusing the first time.

The humor started to fade when Tyreen began leeching children, too. Families. He had become numb to it. 

What could he have done differently? Could he have stopped his sister? Would he have had the courage to?

He remembered when Tyreen had leeched their mother. The sight of his mother turning to an unrecognizable husk was one that gave him nightmares to this day. 

The morbid topic of leeching brings Troy to another point. 

He always suspected Tyreen would turn on him, that she would leech him too. While Troy say he loved his sister, it was a relationship of twisted codependence. She kept him alive because he furthered her image as a God-Queen. However, she tried to kill him on Pandora, with hardly any hesitation or remorse. Had it not been for the Siren’s apprentice, he would have been food too. Tyreen’s endgame had always been for Tyreen. She never had any intention of sharing godhood with her brother. 

A lot of her words started to make sense. 

_ “Keep this up, and I’ll be a god for real!” _

_ “Remind me why I kept you alive all these years?” _

The realization only made him violently, physically ill. Sometimes, he couldn’t stomach his food retching it into the toilet. He felt sickly some days, but it wasn’t because of his constant illness.

He thought of Maya, the courageous woman whom he had murdered. In fact, her death had occupied his thoughts. And he thought about her apprentice, who he knew he traumatized for life.

What could he have done differently? Could he have taken her powers without killing her, like Tyreen did?

In the darkness of his cell. Troy’s thoughts are chaotic and messy. 

He started to understand why their father tried to keep them on Nekrotafeyo. A Siren’s life was always in danger. As isolated as Nekrotafeyo was, it was relatively safe compared to the wastes of Pandora, or hell, the entire universe. Corporate greed had ruined civilization. But the Children of The Vault hadn’t been any better.

Four and a half months in, he started to hate violently hate himself. Shame and Troy Calypso may not have belonged in the same sentence, but they were going to be well acquainted in this depressing cell. And he had a lot of those thoughts as of late. The isolation was soul-crushing, yet he resolved to soldier on. 

To keep his mind further occupied, he did a hundred one armed pushups, crunches, and situps. He could also do a ten kilometer jog, though given the parameters of his cramped cell, he could only do it in place. It had him exhausted, making him fall into a dreamless sleep. Pandora may have been largely comprised of Psychos and bandits, but there had been decent people too.Nightmares of innocent lives being leeched by Tyreen had kept him awake. He could remember the screaming. 

By the seventh month, he could chart the entire course of the six galaxies with optimal efficiency. He challenged his brain to do more, so he started to chart out courses while committing himself to a harder exercise routine. He upped his reps by three hundred. It had failed in making him tired. He only gained more stamina. He could do his entire routine without pausing or breaking a sweat. He just had more energy. The sleepless nights returned in full force.

All the while, the question that had been bothering him echoed loudly his head. 

_What could he have done differently? _

By month nine, he was running out of the seemingly endless reserve of stories his dad told him. There had been a lot of stories, too. He was getting worried. 

By the time a year rolled around, Troy’s seething hatred mellowed into internalized guilt and utter despondency. He stared up at the ceiling. There was nothing to celebrate. What was the fucking point when he was well on his way to becoming a mentally stunted vegetable? 

Troy felt numb. 

He accepted that he was going to rot in here for the rest of his natural life. However long that was going to take. After a year, Troy felt as though he found his answer. 

What could I done differently? 

_Nothing. _

There was nothing he could have done differently. He had made his choices. It was useless thinking about things that couldn’t be undone. 

He considered committing suicide, but thought better of it. It was the coward’s way out. Besides, what the fuck could he kill himself with? He tried starving himself before, but his body had been stupidly resilient. The last time he tried bashing his head into the wall, he had only passed out. No point in hanging himself when he was too fucking tall.

Troy’s personality had done a complete one-eighty. The unapologetic brashness and confidence that came with being a cult leader was gone. He felt hollow. In its place was a pathetic, former shell of man, who lived in sister’s shadow and was destined to die here. There was some karma that was dishing it back at him for throwing the universe into chaos. It was a fitting punishment to have the man here, alone, with his only his guilt and his thoughts to keep him company. 

He curled in on himself in defeat. 

By now, his daily delivery of food should have come. A little anniversary dinner was in order.

_Fucking joy._

Instead he felt distant rumbling again. It wasn’t like the tremors he felt a year back, but something more distinct. Like it was coming from the building itself. He sat up, straining his ears for the sound. The tiny hairs of his neck stood on end. 

Seconds later, he heard the sound of doors screeching in the distance. 

Bright lights exploded on within his tiny cell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How it do? I’m honestly shocked that people have left kudos on this. You guys encourage me to keep writing. You da real MVPs
> 
> Don’t forget to like, follow, and do a Troy Calypso dab~


	4. Crystal Ball

**Crystal Ball - Styx**

_ I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me _

_ Or am I even in it's mind at all _

_ Perhaps I'll get a chance to look ahead and see _

_ Soon as I find myself a crystal ball _

* * *

About several days after Troy’s capture, Rhys was anxious to know if the cult leader had died.

Rhys had consulted with Tannis when he contacted her through the ECHO on the day of Troy’s capture. She went a long-winded tangent about Sirens and other Eridian lore, as she tended to. He did glean the most important bit of information from her. 

“To summarize, if he hasn’t expired already, Troy Calypso should do so within the next sixty to seventy two hours. He can’t live long without his sister to sustain him. After all, a parasite can’t live long without a host!” Tannis had explained. 

“Oh! And once he does ‘kick the bucket,’ would you be so kind as to send me a sample? Actually, his cadaver would do _nicely!_ Okay? Goodbye!”

That was slightly disturbing. But he guessed he could do it. 

He was in his office, drawing up plans for a new weapon for his RND department, the Accelerator series. Rhys had always wanted to develop a high powered magnum. It was just then that Zer0 stealthed into his working space, just an arm’s length away. Rhys blinked at the corporate ninja that just appeared into existence.

“Gah!” The CEO was still startled by his friend’s sudden entry even after all these years.

“Holy crap, Zer0? Would it kill you to knock?” Rhys clutched at his chest.  He wondered if Zer0 was a troll who delighted in scaring the shit out him.

A smiley emoticon appeared on Zer0’s visor.

_“I apologize, Rhys. / Shadows follow where I go. / It cannot be helped.”_

After that experiencing what he was sure was a miniature heart-attack, Rhys rolled away from his desk. He leaned back in his chair andpinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes to give them a brief rest. 

“So... How goes it with our guest? Has he—uh, y’know?” Rhys couldn’t quite finish his sentence. 

Zero was silent. The assassin tightly gripped his hand. Then, he flashed an angry emoticon. 

_ “You should be alarmed. / Ailing beast that should have died / now lies to slumber.” _

Being around Zer0 for some time had given Rhys the ability to depict his cryptic way of speaking. However, his ears couldn’t quite process what Zer0 had just revealed. 

“...Say what now?” Rhys looked up at the assassin in alarm. A shrug emoticon appeared on Zer0. Followed by a frown. 

_ “See for yourself, Rhys.”  _

Zero brought up the live ECHO feed. A miniature hologram of Troy Calypso appeared. Troy was, in fact, very much alive. It appeared as though he was lying on the bunk. His single arm was pillowed underneath his head as he just stared up at the ceiling.

Rhys stared in open mouthed shock at the hologram. 

“That’s... That is alarming.” Rhys admitted. 

He tried not admit that it was almost pants-shitting inducing levels of terror. An frown emoticon flashed across Zer0’s visor. 

_“Won’t kick the bucket. / He must follow the same fate / as his cursed sister.”_ An even angrier looking emoticon appeared on Zer0’s visor. The assassin had a personal vendetta against Troy. He was enraged by Maya’s untimely end. 

_“Want me to kill him?”_ The assassin pulled out his sword. A smiley emoticon flashed across his face. Zer0 prefers a target that gives him a challenge, but for Troy, he’ll gladly make an exception. 

Rhys was about to give him the go-ahead for Zer0 to kill Troy. Just as the words were about to leave his lips, he heard Troy mutter a question. 

_ “What the fuck is goin’ on?”  _

That had made him hesitate. Apparently, the cult leader also had no idea he was going to live this long. _Interesting._ Rhys had a better idea.

“No. We’ll watch what he does for now.”

An angry frown emoticon appeared on Zer0’s visor. He sheathed his sword and stalked off.

_”Should you change your mind, / I’ll make sure his death is quick. / It won’t be painless.”_ He promised. 

The fact that Troy Calypso was alive was making alarm bells ring in his head. It was a direct contrast to what Tannis had said. Now he was curious as to what Troy would _do. _

Rhys had personally ordered to have Troy fed after it was apparent he wasn’t going to die. He had installed a camera on the inside of Troy’s cell before his containment. Initially, the camera was supposed to be a means of confirming that Troy had died. He had only kept meant to keep his body before turning it over to Tannis. Now he had to come up with an excuse to the scientist. He wasn’t willing to divulge that Troy hadn’t died just yet. 

The first month had been tense. And paranoid. Rhys couldn’t sleep several nights knowing he kept a dangerous man alive.

After the first several months had passed, it had turned to impartial observation. Rhys had Troy’s miniature hologram running in the background, on a corner of his desk while he worked. The CEO wasn’t keen on watching his Siren prisoner all hours of the day. It seemed hugely invasive. And creepy.

Then again, throwing a man into a cell to endure _soul-crushing isolation_ wasn’t exactly humane either. 

Rhys had initially intended to send Troy for experimentation. However, he had morals. Flaying a human being alive would probably give Rhys nightmares. And he was easily squicked out. He was fairly certain Tannis would disapprove, only because she couldn’t experiment on him. 

Troy’s time in containment had been largely uneventful, much to his surprise. The former cult leader hadn’t done... anything. The Rhys had expected for Troy to break free the moment he had figured out he wasn’t going to rot. So, it seemed that he had no powers.

Many of his days, Troy had seemed listless. He kept to a daily routine. He had manically worked out during the day, then seemed to lie on the uncomfortable bunk and stare up at the ceiling, legs hanging halfway off the bed, lost in thought. It looked like he rapidly mouthed off equations. 

Other times, Rhys could hear him beatboxing.  _ Odd.  _

The former cult leader committed to this routine for everyday. A week had turned to a month, then slowly into a year. There had been some days where he felt the need to intervene, however. Troy attempted to kill himself before despondently giving up. 

What had gotten Rhys’ interest however was that Troy always muttered a specific question. 

_“What could I have done differently?” _

It was the one thing he muttered over and over again. It was eerie. Sometimes he whispered it. Sometimes it varied in inflection. He didn’t seem to realize that he said it. But that quietly uttered question leftRhys burning with curiosity. 

Rhys wondered why Troy often said it. It left the CEO to ponder on more questions. Did that mean that Troy somehow regretted his actions?

Rhys would spend some time out of his day after work, trying to pick Troy’s brain apart. What motivated him to become a cult leader? How was he a Siren? He supposed the first logical step was to understand Troy’s beginnings. 

He had done some research of on Troy’s background and found that he was the son of Typhon DeLeon and Leda Calyspo. Searching ATLAS’ old databases had given him a veritable mine of information. This was interesting. This information helped him understand Troy just a little better. 

The beginnings of an elaborate plan was already playing out in Rhys’ head.

Rhys had been agonizing and debating with himself for weeks on whether or not it was a good idea. He had been a nervous wreck, actually. This was a stupid idea. This was probably going to get him killed. And yet his gut instinct was telling him he had to do it. His gut instinct hadn’t failed him yet. 

The night before, Rhys stewed in his office and contemplated his choice over several glasses of singularity malt whiskey. It slowly melted into the morning. 

Hell, he was going to go for it. 

He was going to free Troy Calypso.

Obviously, Troy wasn’t going to walk entirely free. Rhys wasn’t _that_ foolish. And so, the CEO began planning and concocting. Rhys was willing to extend a helping hand towards Troy. While Rhys’ motives were largely benevolent, he felt no remorse using Troy for his own personal gain. Right now, everything was a huge gamble. Rhys never considered himself a gambling man, but he hoped he making the right call.

And Troy felt like that_ “ace-in-hole”_ kind of guy. 

Rather than pour himself another glass of whiskey, he took a deep drink of the liquid courage instead. He passed out in the afternoon and his secretary was forced to hold all his calls and reschedule all of meetings for that day. 

The evening came, Rhys decided it was time to pay his “guest” a visit, hopefully to feel out Troy’s intentions.

The elevator ride down was perhaps the longest Rhys had ever taken, punctuated by the terse silence from his crew. The heavy machinery from the elevator would drown on out any chance at normal conversation. They would have to yell. Rhys was sporting a pretty gnarly hangover. He had neglected to take a cure like an idiot. 

The CEO was was flanked by a large security detail consisting of his best soldiers. The elevator wasn’t small by any means, but they were still standing shoulder to shoulder. Troy Calypso was dangerous, and for good reason. Rhys knew it was better to be safe than sorry. To his left was his second-in-command. 

Lor, formerly Lorelei, had voluntarily tagged along too, though Rhys was secretly worried. The coffee commander often flew off the handle, letting his temper get the best of him. The moment he told his frontline commander he was going to pay Troy a visit, Lor’s assault rifle had been locked and loaded before he got into the elevator with Rhys. He insisted that he come with his boss. The CEO secretly hoped that Lor wouldn’t empty a full clip into Troy before had the chance to talk to him. 

Lor had been a far better choice than Zer0. The assassin would probably cut Troy in half.

They were riding the elevator down to the isolation cells. The cells were a part of the older ATLAS HQ before it was firebombed into pile of glassed ash. He had discovered it entirely by accident. Rhys had grand plans for the former jail. He was intending convert the underground prison crew for the RnD’s branch’s new tech, once he dealt with Troy. 

Despite his goofy, tightly wound demeanor, it was a front to deceive the public. Rhys was hardly a fool. He hadn’t become a CEO by sheer dumb luck. He had guts to commit what was needed as a CEO and as a wartime general for ATLAS. 

It was his sheer determination that had permanently rid of both CoV and Maliwan presence from Promethea. Well, he _technically_ had help from the Crimson Raiders, but that was aside from the point! Promethea had experienced prosperity for the first time in ages. Poverty was dropping to an all time low with a burgeoning middle class, thanks to ATLAS’ involvement in the planet’s economy. The ultra rich were finally contributing to Promethea’s welfare. 

Rhys feared that this temporary peace was all that it was going to be. _Temporary_.

The Maliwan company hadn’t crumbled with the loss of Katagawa Jr. The destruction of Junior’s Zanara had been a stupid, costly mistake. As it turned out, the Zanara had kept Maliwan’s profits in the red. Maintenance and upkeep for the ship was so fantastically expensive that the only way to pay for it was to seize ATLAS to offset the costs. And Katagawa Jr., _bless his dead, cold egotistical soul_, had been confident that he was going to succeed in merging with ATLAS, too. Its destruction had only opened back up Maliwan’s budget for warfaring. Rhys wished he had seized the creepy space pleasure yacht and sold it for scrap instead of blowing it smithereens.

Although a malicious part of Rhys could admit, it felt pretty _damn_ satisfying. 

Maliwan had tried to invade ATLAS HQ several times in the past, but ATLAS was ready for them. More alarmingly, the COV still seemed to be working in tandem with the corrupt company. Weren’t these cultists asshats supposed to fall apart after Tyreen died? 

Even the rest of the universe was in shambles, at least he was looking out for his own people. But they might not last long. Rhys didn’t need to be a fortune teller to know what the future was going to hold. 

Troy Calypso’s cooperation was a matter of utmost urgency. His role could very well turn the tide for the corporate war. If Troy agreed to it, plans could be set into motion. 

Hopefully a year in isolation reformed some of the Siren’s behavior. Rhys had personally witnessed it. Any influence without his now dead sister seemed to make him strangely docile. He had intended it to be longer, but Rhys was pressed for time. Rhys hoped that gut instinct was his saving grace. 

Now was the time to dangle the carrot to entice the horse, as it were.

The elevator was slowing its descent towards the basement. 

“You ready, Rhys?” Lor half-yelled over the loud elevator, looking at his boss in concern. 

“Yeah!” 

Lor sighed, not entirely convinced. Lor had balked at the idea. He thought his boss was bloody, certifiably _insane_.

“Rhys, I know you’re thinking, but—“ He turned to his boss, brows heavily furrowed. 

“What’s on your mind, Lor?” Rhys yelled. He regretted it immediately. His headache was killing him, but resisted the urge to rub his forehead. He knew he should have taken that hangover cure.

“You sure it’s a good idea to try to convince him? This is _bloody_ Troy Calypso we’re talkin’ about!” Lor stressed. 

Rhys coughed, then cleared his throat. 

“I’m sure it’ll work. I mean, he’s spent long enough in there!” 

“Whatever you say!” Lor just looked doubtful. 

At least, I  hope.  He dared not say out loud. Otherwise, he probably would be forced to put Troy Calypso down. Or keep letting him rot down there. Lor made a rude noise. 

“Wanker’s better off rotting. Or being used as an experiment.” Lor mumbled. He shuddered when he remembered finding out the fate of Terry, the janitor. Poor bastard. Maybe Troy Calypso could be more manageable as a ratch, he thought with a crooked smile. 

“We’re about to reach floor zero, boss!” One of the ATLAS soldiers yelled. 

Rhys calmly brushed back his hair, adjusted his tie, and straightened out his jacket. First impressions were always the most important. 

“It’s go time.” Rhys muttered to himself. He felt his stomach clench when he heard the doors screaming open, as if they were a herald to announce his presence to Troy. 

Troy would definitely see that the price of freedom was too good to give up. 

_Please let it work._ He fervently prayed. 

The future depended on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei is trans. seriously!
> 
> I couldn’t think of a better name and I didn’t want to confuse readers, so I just stuck with Lor
> 
> Anyways, I hope the pacing isn’t shite 
> 
> -anxious noises-
> 
> I dun goofed on the chapters for a bit
> 
> Forgive me~ OTL


	5. No More No Less

** No More No Less - Suicidal Tendencies  **

_Now you'll face a man that understands / that violence is the best plan its cyco time again!_

* * *

Troy could hear the loud screeching of some cargo doors opening somewhere in the distance followed by the tromping of heavy boots. Judging by the heavy footfalls, it had to have been a dozen soldiers. Troy was immediately on alert. His eyes squinted close due to the harsh lights flooding his cell.

They were here for him, he knew. 

Ah, well. At least  something was happening. He sat up ramrod straight, he tensing himself for whatever the hell was going to come into his cell.

In a few short moments, his cell door slid open. Troy threw out a hand in front of his face, feeling disoriented by the bright light. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his to eyeballs to adjust. Panic was fast building in him. He could hear the doors screeching close. After a year of darkness and silence, everything felt so jarring. Between the bright lights and the loud noises, Troy felt disorientated.

When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw about a dozen high ranking Atlas soldiers line up side by side in a long hallway. They looked intimidating and official in their heavy armor. A man with a dusky complexion and teal hair briskly walked towards him. He was tightly gripping an assault rifle in his hands. While he was of slight stature, he looked like he could roughhouse with an-all Goon Roller Derby and kick all their asses in the meantime. He marched right up to Troy, eyes blazing. 

A year of being deprived of human interaction had set Troy on edge. Some reptilian part of his brain was screaming to defend himself. Before he could fully stand, the man had cocked his rifle and immediately aimed the barrel at his face.

_“Stay sittin’ asshole.” _He barked. 

Troy gave him a weary look. There was a defiant gleam in his eyes only set Lor on edge. 

“I said to  _ sit.”  _

His tone brooked no argument, and he definitely didn’t look the type to take bullshit. There was something strangely familiar about him. Troy’s rebellious nature reared its head, ready to defy the teal haired man’s brusque command. Troy Calypso wasn’t the type to  take orders.

He considered taking him on and the other ATLAS soldiers on. The soldiers in question looked ready to move in. Their stances were rigid, tensely waiting on Troy to make any sudden moves. He saw how heavily armed they were. They still considered him a threat, even as contained and de-powered as was. He eyed their guns. This was turning out to be a fucking monumentally stupid idea. Troy would be breathing out of several dozen bleeding holes in his chest if he made any sudden moves. He raised his single hand to show he wasn’t up to funny business and thus remained sitting. 

“Lor, is it all right to come in?” A nervous man’s voice chimed up. 

“Everything’s all good, Rhys.” The commander said, eyes never leaving the Siren. 

Moments later, a man with an official looking suit and a mustache walked in. His eyes were darting around his cell. Troy never met him personally, but he already knew from Katagawa’s creepy and obsessive descriptions that it was the CEO and wartime general for ATLAS, Rhys Strongfork. 

From what he gathered about Rhys, he was paranoid but observant. Quick to come up with ideas and solutions, but not necessarily the best at executing them with efficiency. He also strongly cared for his army, a rarity amongst corporations. 

Thinking about Katagawa Jr. made him smirk. _God_, the deceased Maliwan CEO wanted to desperately fuck Rhys. That trust funded tyrant he was so deep in the denial about his attraction, it was on the edges of the known universe. 

The CEO had mistaken thought that Troy’s smirk for meant for him. It made Rhys nervous. 

Rhys’ eyes bugged out at the man. Indeed, he looked healthier than before. Troy looked almost unrecognizable, especially with the long, shaggy curtain of hair surrounding his face. The CEO could see his pale piercing eyes under the dark hair, and they looked slightly wild. The cult leader turned prisoner looked weary as he surveyed Rhys.

Rhys walked in front of the convict Siren. He tried to draw himself up at his full height, chest puffed out in an attempt to appear intimidating. It wasn’t very impressive given that Troy was already a giant of a man. 

“Troy Calypso.” Rhys greeted.

Even though Troy had been shoved in a cell for a year, the sarcastic, quick thinking part of him that lay dormant surfaced. 

“Heya, Strongfork.” Troy sarcastically greeted back, as if the mustachioed man were an old friend. “What brings you and your friend to my dirty and depressing cell today?” His voice was raspy from disuse. 

When Rhys didn’t respond, he got in another shot. 

“Lemme guess. You gonna read me my last rights?” 

Rhys didn’t respond. He looked strangely thoughtful. Troy continued on, undeterred.

“Gonna trot me out to the gallows and publicly execute me?” He smirked. 

“Depends on how badly you deserve it.” Rhys reluctantly answered back. Troy’s cocky smirk somewhat faded. The tall man scoffed. 

“So what, are people gonna feel better once I kick the bucket?” 

_Probably not. _

Rhys let out an inappropriate chuckle. Then he rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish.

“I mean, you  are a wanted war criminal.” Rhys admitted, shrugging. 

The CEO heard Troy rudely mutter_ “no, shit” _under his breath. His too-casual attitude only served to piss off Lor. The prick’s attitude only put him on edge. 

“I’ll gladly kill you myself, you slaggin’ wanker!” The coffee commander angrily piped up, stepped forward. Troy grinned like a shark. He gave the teal haired man a wink. 

“Oh, yeah? You and everyone else in the universe wants a piece of me, bro.” He mocked. He leant backwards onto his bunk, crossing one leg over the other, in a display of cool indifference. His arm rested under his head. His heart however, was beating so rapidly in his chest, he thought it was going to give out.

“You need to keep your guard dog on a muzzle. His bark’s louder than his bite.” Troy arrogantly added. Rhys’ second-in-command was about to fly off the handle. 

Lor looked about ready to murder him. The  nerve of this prick when he was in prison! The other ATLAs soldiers had to physically restrain him. It was a monumental task, even with Lor’s small figure.

“Whoa, _whoa!”_ Rhys panicked. He wished he could have insisted that Lor to stay with Zero.

“Lemme put a bullet in his arse, see if this tall wanker acts the same!” Lor barked, waving his gun at Troy. The tall man shot another smirk at him. Then his face turned serious as he looked at Rhys. He sat up straight again. He was getting tired of this small talk shit.

“You’re not here for a casual visit.” Troy stated, point-blank. 

_“Why?”_ He looked at Rhys, all pretense of cockiness gone. The shift of moods was so sudden and tense, it made even Lor momentarily forget why he was so pissed.

The coffee commander looked between the two men.

Rhys rubbed at the back of his head. These days, the CEO hadn’t been one to play elaborate mind games. Dealing with the Handsome Jack AI was a hard lesson that he learnt. 

“I’m just here to check on the welfare of our...guest?” He shrunk a little under Troy’s heavy scowl. 

_What a goddamned bold-faced lie._ Troy immediately called him out on it. 

“C’mon , Strongfork.” Troy drawled out slowly. “You really came _here_ for that shit? Could’ve checked on me with your little toy up there.” He flung his hand in the precise direction of the camera, in the corner of his cell. It was difficult even for a trained eye to spot. 

Rhys nervously twiddled with his mustache. So Troy  _did_ know. Awkward.

“Uhh—“ 

“Guy’s a right slaggin’ wanker, Rhys!” Lor angrily interrupted, shooting the tall man a glare. “I say you should give your guest an  extended stay.”

“Or you  _can_ kill me.” Troy interrupted. “But you’re not gonna, are you?” He hedged.

There was a terse beat a silence. Rhys didn’t answer right away. His silence could only mean that they weren’t here to kill him...  yet . He felt a slight sense of relief. Troy decided to probe further. He had nothing to lose at this point.

“Funny that... If you did kill me, public execution style, how’d you figure the COV would handle it?” 

Rhys had a nagging suspicion that Troy already could deduce the reason of his visit. However, he decided to play along. 

“W-well. Uh, I imagine the COV wouldn’t be very pleased. Given that’d you be dead.” 

Troy barked a forced laugh that echoed into the hallways outside of his cell. A wicked grin spread across his face. Shades of his former self started to come back.

“How many soldiers you got, Strongfork? Something in the hundred thousands?” He ventured a guess. It hadn’t been much when he learned their numbers from Katagawa last year. 

“Six-hundred thousand.” Rhys finally admitted. Troy let out another laugh so loud, it sounded manic. 

“You seriously think you can fight off your ‘little bandit problem’ with that piddly amount?”

Rhys bristled, clearly offended. “Hey! ATLAS has the most advanced warfare technology in the six galaxies—“

“The COV is  billions strong.” Troy interrupted. “Fancy tech don’t mean shit it the numbers are overwhelmingly in the enemy’s favor.” 

Rhys was more then well aware of the problem. He wasn’t going to admit that out loud to Troy, however. 

“You don’t have good chances. The Vault Hunters killing Tyreen only made her a martyr for their cause.” Troy said, deadly serious. 

Before his imprisonment, Troy and Tyreen worked in tandem to build up the Children of the Vault. Troy worked tirelessly behind the scenes to build up Tyreen’s god-like reputation. For years, Troy had written Tyreen to be a nigh-unstoppable god. It had all been cleverly placed smoke and mirrors. There was a tower of lies that they had built up over an unshakeable foundation of bloodlust. 

The warring bandits clans had unquestioningly accepted their gospel and were united in their cause. Even if both twins were dead, the religious fervor wouldn’t be unseated so uneasily. He knew that the COV would still continue to exist even though he had been isolated for a year. 

He knew he was never as popular as Tyreen. Yet there were possibilities... There were bandits who could bring down their wrath on ATLAS if he died. More death and bloodshed would follow.

This was the beast he created. 

_Ripples in a pond that could create a tsunami. _ He remembered his mother saying.

He was fucking sick of it. Of everything having to do with the COV. Tyreen nearly killing him had broke him from that. 

_What could I have done differently? _

Troy clenched his hand tightly, nails digging deep into the palm of his hand it nearly drew blood. 

“I know the COV is still out there. They’re only gonna come faster if you kill me.”

Rhys’ face was carefully neutral. He had oddly stopped twiddling with his mustache. The small action seemed very significant to Troy. 

“Think carefully, Strongfork.” He taunted, though his expression was deadly serious. “What the Vault Hunters did to ATLAS years ago is going to look like a birthday party compared to what the COV can do  _now_.” He promised. 

Rhys was silent. He paced back and forth again, not looking at Troy. He looked off to the distance, carefully thinking things over. Where was the nervous man wreck of man that Troy had heard about? 

Rhys turned to the Siren. 

“So, what do  _you_ propose we do?” Rhys asked seriously. 

Troy’s face tightened. What good was his opinion when he was in fucking prison? 

_Unless._ Troy shot Lor a suspicious glance. The coffee commander’s face also gave away nothing.

“Why are you here?” Troy reiterated. Rhys chuckled again, much to his irritation. 

“You’re right. This ‘little bandit problem’ as you put it, hasn’t gone away.” Rhys paced back and forth, but this time his eyes never left Troy. He leveled a calculating gaze on the cult leader.

“In fact, it’s pretty dire. We’ve been holding them back across the six galaxies, but barely. A few more more months, and well...” Rhys shook his head. He didn’t need to finish his sentence. 

“I need someone who understands the COV. Anticipate their movements. Their internal structures, figure heads, key locations. He laced his hands behind his back. “I’ve sent spies over the past few months, but no dice.” 

“We need someone  more _ significant.”_ He meaningfully waggled his brows in the former cult leader’s direction.

“We need someone...” Rhys trailed off. 

Troy quickly caught on, though he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Someone... like me.” Troy finished. 

“Exactly.” Rhys nodded along, pleased that he understood.

Troy was still doubting the CEO. It seemed too good to be true. He shot another cocky smirk at the CEO.

“I don’t see the point.” Troy snickered. “Why not just wait a few months until the COV can free me?”

Rhys smiled. It was unsettling. “Cults need a figurehead in order to run. The COV seem to running just fine on their belief system alone. I think they’ll be okay without you.” He calmly assured Troy. 

“Conversely, I can keep you here for those couple of months. The COV can come and kill us all, but no one will be able to find you. This place is _top_-secret.” He emphasized, popping the the ‘p.’

Troy narrowed his eyes, but didn’t call him on his bluff. 

“It’s a fifteen minute elevator ride down here. I doubt they would hear you scream for help. This wouldn’t be a good place to starve to death.” Rhys casually stated. 

Troy tensed, then sighed. He pinched the bridge if his nose.

“So it’s either to throw myself into the heart of the enemy, or die alone in a cold, dark cell? Sounds great.”

Rhys smiled that scheming little smile again. 

“You won’t be alone. There’s a _perfect_ group I’ve got in mind that’d be willing to accommodate you.” 

Troy looked up at him, clearly interested.

“...What kinda group?”

Rhys looked solemn, there was a slight smile in his mouth, hidden by the weird porn ‘stache. His eyes seemed to glimmer with strange approval. It made Troy uncomfortable.

“Oh, I’ll tell you in due time.” Rhys paused for a beat. “Depends on what you _want_, though.” He added as an afterthought.

“What I  want?” Troy asked, incredulous. “Strongfork, I _still_ don’t know what you’re offering.” 

Rhys smirked at the Siren. He turned and whispered something low to his second-in-command. Troy couldn’t hear it.

“Excuse us for a moment.” Lor said tightly, giving Troy a disdainful glare. He nearly all but dragged the mustachioed man out of the cell, far away enough to purposely keep Troy out of earshot.

The ATLAS soldiers closest to his cell filed in, blocking the pair from Troy’s sight. Despite their bulky armor, he could still hear the pair quietly discussing things outside. Their presence made his cramped cell feel even more claustrophobic.

Troy decided to strike up conversation with the ATLAS soldiers. After all, it had been a year and a day since he talked to anyone. He was willing to talk to anyone at this point. Even former enemy soldiers. 

“So, I hear ATLAS has been pretty bogged down these days.” He stated casually. 

They didn’t respond. Instead, they calmly leveled their weapons at his head and chest. He could hear the threatening whir of the weapons starting up. Troy made a rude noise with his teeth and slumped against the wall. 

_“T__ch. _You know what? Nevermind.” He rolled his eyes. 

_Damn bunch of killjoys_. He thought grumpily.

Troy’s leg was rapidly bouncing up and down. He tried to look over the ATLAS soldier’s armor, straining to hear something. He remembered the man’s warning, however, and still had his ass firmly on the bunk. 

After what seemed like an agonizing amount of time, the soldiers shuffled out of his cell and Rhys came into Troy’s cell alone. Troy could see that the commander shook his head, and stalked off towards the elevator doors to open them. 

“We’re here to offer you an ultimatum.”

Troy sat up straighter, watching him, stance drawn in and intense, but his face otherwise neutral. The guy could have made an excellent CEO. He had a fantastic poker face. 

“What are my options?” Troy asked, his arrogance gone, his voice so taut it could cut through glass. 

Rhys cleared his throat. 

“You can join the Crimson Raiders under certain conditions, or you can remain here for the duration of your life.” 

The male Siren didn’t answer right away. He paused for effect, though his mind was already made up.

_Fuck rotting in this cell. _

He stood up and stretched, popping out the kinks in his back. The sound of his bones popping was loud. He scowled at the mustache’d CEO. 

“No offense, Strongfork. But you’re a dumbass if you think I’m staying here for the rest of my life.” He scoffed. While he acted like a smarmy, indifferent asshole, he was secretly trembling. He tried to act as confident as he sounded, trying to muster up some of his dignity. 

“I’ll take my chances with out there. Wherever the hell ‘there’ is.” 

In reality, Troy Calypso was ready to throw away his dignity. He would have thrown himself at Rhys’ feet and beg for his worthless pathetic life if it meant a chance at freedom. 

“So... you’ll do it?” Rhys asked. Troy scowled at the CEO, like he was an idiot.

“Yeah. I’ll do it. Don’t have a choice, now, do I?” Troy realized how fucking grimy he felt. He strolled forward, towards the exit. He had always been a clean person, but shitty sink water wouldn’t do.

“But first... uh, can I take a shower?” 

Rhys blinked in confusion. He gave Troy a once-over and apparently thought the same thing.

“I don’t see why not.” He nodded at Lor. 

“_First_ showers, _then_ negotiations!” Rhys looked like he had plans for the former cult leader.

Troy didn’t know what the hell he was getting into. But it was better than staying here. He stepped onto the elevator with Rhys, Lor, and the ATLAS soldiers and watched the doors slowly close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up my bandit orphans? It’s been like forever. 
> 
> Don’t forget to like, comment, and wub wub wub~


	6. She Likes Surprises

**She Likes Surprises - Soundgarden**

_So easy to leave it or take it in stride_   
_So easy to read when she's faking her smile_   
_She likes surprises, she likes surprises_   
_Anything in colorful disguises_

* * *

Ava pushed herself away from her desk. She tiredly rubbed at her eyes and let out a long yawn, the corners of her blue eyes reflexively teared up. The young Siren worked the cricks out of her neck. Tonight’s work was done, but there were still a sizable mound she had to plow through in the next couple of days. Ava sighed, then crumpled up a failed contract. She tossed it into across the room, where it lazily made its way into a wastebasket.

“What’chu got, paperwork? You got... _nuthin’...” _She grumbled. She gave a half-hearted glance at the rest of the papers on her desk, frowning heavily.

If there was one thing she hated as the Commander, paperwork was a fucking nightmare. Between fighting the COV and Maliwan, this was perhaps the worst part of her job. She let out a long breath, blowing the persisting fringe out of her face. She really needed a trim. And a mental break from this insanity. And preferably a coffee with a strong shot of whiskey or three in it.

_One thing at a time!_

“Seriously, how the hell does Rhys do this?” Ava muttered. Then again that asshole probably had a team of secretaries do it for him. She looked back to the ever piling mound of paperwork, distressed at how high it was getting. It felt never-ending. And some of the stacks looked damn near close to falling over. Too bad Lilith didn’t leave her secret notes on how to magically fill out paperwork with Siren powers, or whatever. She glared at the paperwork. Staring at it wasn’t going to fill itself out. Ava ran her hand over her face and rubbed at her tired eyes.

How did being a Raider even entail being an office jockey? Hell, she was the _Commander. _Others should be doing this for her. Payroll, weapons shipments, applications, navigational routes... This was an absolute, repetitive nightmare. And she found that she was always behind on paperwork.

Maybe that was one of the reasons Lilith pushed back Elpis, she darkly chuckled to herself. Ava remembered Lilith filling out mounds of paperwork, too. Much to Ava’s guilt, she even laughed in Lilith’s face when she had politely asked for her help.

The Commander wanted to burn them all. She wanted to cackle in glee as she danced around the pile, watching it erupt in flames before it crumbled into a blackened dust.

She was a fighter. What Ava should be doing was fighting on the frontlines. That was what Maya had trained her for. When she wasn’t off fighting bloodthirsty bandits or corporate murder squads, her Commander role had been relegated to the desk in her room or on the bridge in Sanctuary, toiling away at more boring, mind-numbing work. Thankfully, she still kept in shape and meditated so that she didn’t turn into some flabby, mindless pencil pusher.

Ava had been surprisingly competent and efficient. However, she was still only one person. FL4K had helped out, since they were initially created for archiving and butlery. But the robot quickly lost interest and was more invested in they deemed the “big hunt.” Ava didn’t push it.

Skirmishes and paperwork weren’t the only things Ava was good at. Much to her surprise, Ava also enjoyed helping out others. When she could, she tried to deliver aid to outlying planetary settlements. Being orphaned from the corporate wars made her understand the mindset of those who were just fighting to survive. She had to plan a route to Hephaestus, a major mining settlement that worked under ATLAS. The people living there had been had been hit hard by Maliwan. It was also a strategic move, more help in from the Raiders meant that the settlements could send more volunteers out to the Raiders.

She initialed off another paper and put into the_ “Done” _pile.  
The stack of papers for their food bills had sagged and finally fell over onto the floor. The Commander barely reacted. Ava tilted her head and gave the scattered papers an aggrieved look, but made no move to pick them up. She sagged in her chair and let out another fortifying breath, and stared up at the ceiling.

She silently thanked Maya everyday for the meditation exercises. She probably would have airlocked herself out the cargo bay if she stared at another invoice for Splodeos, Clapsaps, or god forbid _why_, fresh skag balls.

The last one made her shudder in revulsion.

Hermes, sensing his master’s distress, lightly leapt onto the table. He headbutted her shoulder in an attempt to cheer her up, letting out a distressed chirp. Ava turned to the little critter and affectionately scratched his head. Then she picked him up deposited Hermes into her lap, scratching his belly. The cute little monster made some noises of content. And people thought he was ugly.

She turned back to her desk and absentmindedly rolled the pen back and forth back and forth with her phase-locking powers, lost in thought.

There had been rumors, talk of another mutiny. That was worrying. She thought she had solved that particular problem a year ago. More Raiders had joined up, yet their combat experience had been less than satisfactory. Ava was forced to cycle out the veterans to other Crimson Raider outposts to train up the rookies on Sanctuary.

The rookies in question seemed to treat the whole experience like some damn field trip. Even if they seemed to treat corporate war like a game, she would never refuse the help.

The slew of inexperienced rookies, combined with the cynical, lazy veterans was starting to tax Ava’s nerves. She found that she had to rely on the Vault Hunters to get the job done. The Vault Hunters were looking a little more than ragged these days, but they haven’t complained. She had to hold a meeting soon to address this.

She vigorously rubbed the underside of Hermes’ belly.

“Least you understand me, don’tcha, boy?” She hummed affectionately. Hermes purred in reply.

Ava might not have been the best commander, but she did have determination. She took calculated losses and risks. She tried to do what was best for everyone.

Pushing more of today’s work aside into the_ “Done” _pile, she brought out her ECHO. Today, this what was she what she was anxiously looking towards.

Ava pored over the latest sitrep covering the COV armada outside of Eden-3. Given the coordinates of the Vault Map, there was another Vault located in the Eden system. Ava wondered how they were able to find it before the Raiders did. Any Vault that the COV possessed could shift the tenuous balance of power.

Which led to another nagging detail.

Just a couple days ago, Rhys hinted that he had a “secret weapon” to fight off the COV. Something to “really change the tide of the corporate war” he said with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Ava, not one to play games, demanded what the hell it was. Rhys gave away nothing, and the man was usually the first to brag. Even after using nearly every threat and bribe in her personal arsenal, the CEO had remained tight-lipped about it.

Ava’s ECHO let out a shrill beep. She checked it out and found that it was an incoming transmission from Rhys. No doubt he wanted them to hold a meeting to discuss tactics on how to fight the COV that abruptly appeared outside of the Eden-3. The Raiders had stopped by Promethea to do some routine repairs. They were planning a jump to the Eden System in several days.

It wasn’t ususual for the CEO to contact her outside of their usual meeting time. Rhys wasn’t a punctual person, preferring to jump right into something on a whim when it struck his fancy. It was a personal gripe of Ava’s. It made her seem like his personal lap dog, rather than an associate of ATLAS. She wasn’t in a position to complain, however. Rhys was generous to gift the Raiders with weapons and troops.

Ava pushed away from her desk and stood up, stretching. Hermes climbed up her arms and perched himself on top of her head.

“Claptrap, open comms with Rhys.” She ordered.

“Gotcha, Commander!” Claptrap hummed an obnoxious tune as he rapidly typed away at the console. Ava smiled and shook her head. Many people found Claptrap irritating, but she had a soft spot for the funny little Hyperion bot. Holo-Rhys immediately popped into view. Her smile faded and her face turned cool and detached.

“Rhys.” She curtly greeted with a slight nod of her head.

”Hey, Ava! Good weather we’re having!” His overly cheerful voice roused some suspicion. He used that specific tone when he wanted something. She ignored it for the time being.

“Well, I suppose it would be, if Sanctuary wasn’t in the vacuum of space.” She dryly commented. Though Maya passed on, her apprentice had captured the essence of Maya’s wit. That tone clearly meant she wasn’t in the mood for bullshit.

Rhys uncomfortably cleared his throat. It was a just a little joke.  
Why were Sirens so, so... temperamental? He had trouble dealing with one. But _four_ was just overkill.

“Well, how goes it with the sitrep? Anything you wanna add? Need more _sick ATLAS tech?”_ He started conversationally, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s fine.” Ava leaned against the terminal, then cast a wry look at Rhys. “But I assume this isn’t just what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?”

“W-well, yes. But no.”

Holo-Rhys shuffled some papers around. It was like he was stalling for something. He seemed more nervous than usual. Ava was slightly suspicious of him.

It was as Maya said. You couldn’t trust a man with a mustache. That was just science.

“Rhys?” She questioned. Rhys shook his head, as if questioning himself.

“So, uh... How goes it with the Raiders?” He changed the conversation in a different direction. She blinked, slightly annoyed. What the hell was going on? Ava answered his question anyways. She set down Hermes and watched him scamper away.

“We’re still stretched thin from last month. It’s more or less the same.” Ava reluctantly answered.

She didn’t comment that it had been much less. They both knew the Raiders were in desperate need of help. Rookies could only do so much. Hell, everyone needed help these days.

“Oh... that’s unfortunate.” Rhys added, sounding a little too forced. Ava’s suspicions grew, but didn’t call him out on it.

“So, I assume you’ll still need help?” He continued.

“I’ll always need help. So, does this mean to say that you’re giving me some of your soldiers?”

The CEO nervously laughed. He looked up again.

“Unfortunately, I can’t right now. I’ve been stretched enough as it is.” He rubbed the back of his head, looking apologetic. Ava nodded in understanding. But she was getting impatient with this conversation. It was nothing but small talk. Ava cut straight to the chase.

“So, why’d you call me?”

Holo-Rhys’ mustache twitched. He nervously twiddled the hairs with his flesh hand. He kept looking up, as if he were expecting something, or someone. When he didn’t reply, Ava pressed him again.

“Rhys? Is something wrong?”

He was still distracted. Ava let out another impatient huff. The only way to get him off of these weird tangents was to wait a couple of seconds, then speak again.

It was like... he was mentally rifling through a list of choices, before selecting one.

“Speaking of help, any word on the ‘secret weapon’ you said had for me?” Ava air quoted him. Rhys’s attention was momentarily restored at the mention of her secret weapon.

_“What? _Huh? Oh, that!” He shook his head and resumed their conversation. “As a matter of fact, I have!” He cheerfully replied.

That had piqued Ava’s interest. The Siren commander leaned against the console. She quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“So... what is it?”

Rhys cleared his throat again.

“Not ‘what.’ It’s ‘who’.”

“The secret weapon is a person?”

Interesting. Ava was intrigued.

“So, what can they do? Are they a mercenary, mechanic?”

“Oh, he’s good, trust me. I think he’ll be a great fit for the Raiders.” He assured her.

Ava quirked an eyebrow. Just to humor herself, she decided to hear him out.

“Okay? So, work with me here, I need to know what kind of skills he _has_.” Ava stressed.

“I know you’ve been having trouble finding Vaults, too. He has also has a, uh, certain _expertise_ in finding them!”

The only person that Ava was aware of that knew Eridian tech was Tannis. Who else could possibly fit that role? It piqued her interest.

“Go on.” She slowly allowed.

“He’s talented in a lot of things! Great fighter, strong, quick on his feet.” Rhys blathered on, like he was trying to sell a used Outrunner.

“That’s cool, but who is he?” Ava pressed.

“Uh... You two have been _acquainted_ in the past.” Rhys vaguely answered, dodging her question again. Ava didn’t like his answer. She wasn’t one for any surprises these days. She tried to wrack her brain for someone she had met in the past who had those kind of qualifications.

A man, who knew how to find Vaults. Who also seemed to be a fighter. Who she also had known with in the past, but wasn’t acquainted with anymore. The only men she who matched that vague criteria were the Vault Hunters.

“So why aren’t you telling me who this guy is?”

“Uh... I just wouldn’t want you to refuse him outright.” He replied sheepishly. 

Ava was confused.

“Why?” Rhys twiddled with his mustache again. 

“He seems to have reformed. We’ve had an agreement of sorts for now, so... I’ve decided to let him out for a trial period with the Raiders.”

“Trial period?” She questioned. “Rhys. You didn’t tell me he was in prison!”

This time, Rhys quirked an eyebrow back at her.

“Are you really one to question what kind of people the Raiders hire?”

Ava was at a momentary loss for words. Well, Rhys got her there. Some of the older Raiders were former COV members. The Vault Hunters had questionable pasts. FL4K murdered all living things in order to please their goddess “Death.” Zane was a quadruple-crossing corporate hitman. She could go on, really.

“...Good point.” She conceded.

“Great! Once you’re done with Eden-3, bring him back here so we can draw up more contracts for his parole.”

Ava could have outright refused. However, any person with these qualifications seemed like a boon for the Raiders. And Rhys hadn’t failed her yet.

“Send the paperwork over and I’ll take a look at it.” Ava finally relented. She could already feel an impending headache coming on.

“But lemme get this straight... You expect me to let a potentially dangerous criminal onto my ship?”

“Yeah.”

“On your word.”

“...Yes?”

“And I know who he is? But you’re not telling me... because you’re afraid of how I’ll react?”

“I...Yes.”

Ava felt like she was going to regret her decision. But she also desperately needed the help. She just hoped this stranger wasn’t a total psycho. She was confident she could stop him.

There could be worse people. At least she wasn’t letting someone like _Tyreen Calypso_ onboard.

“Fine... I’ll let him on board.” Ava flipped several switches on the console, opening the digistruct channels for Sanctuary’s hyperspace terminal. He would teleport there.

Holo-Rhys picked up his head. It seemed whoever he was waiting for finally arrived.

“Ahh, and there he is now! You ready?”

“Goddammit.” The voice rumbled. “That implant hurt like a sonabitch. You coulda warned me—“

Ava felt chills go down her spine. She _knew_ that voice. She immediately stood up straighter.

“So, I have to send you over the Raiders, _now.”_ Rhys rushed. There was a telltale twinkle in his eyes. 

“See you!” 

“Wait! What the _fuck,_ Strong-“ He sounded panicked, as though he was just as prepared as Ava was.

The familiar shimmer of the Fast Travel appeared near the Hyperspace Terminal. Within seconds, the shape became more distinct, forming into what looked like amount tall man. Ava’s heart beat even faster.

_“—fork.”_

The man wildly looked around the bridge, alert of his new surroundings. Ava froze, her eyes going unnaturally wide. His willowy figure seemed to grow even taller as he quickly drew up to his full height. It was unnatural how _tall_ he was. Ava felt she had to tilt her head up just to get a look at him. Recognition and shock filled her as their eyes met.

Time seemed to freeze.

She thought this man had died when he was captured. She hadn’t thought of him since Typhon’s DeLeon death. She was staring at a physical ghost of her past.

She met eyes with none other than Troy Calypso.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers~
> 
> Don’t forget like to like, follow, and obey. YOU MUST OBEY


	7. Policy of Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shoutout to my boi (i dunno your gender, plz forgive me) NotDio 
> 
> Your constructive criticism helped me restructure this chapter. You’re right, I wasn’t happy with the first run. I will endeavor to write better, boo.

**Policy of Truth - Depeche Mode**

_ You'll see your problems multiplied_

_ If you continually decide _

_ To faithfully pursue _

_ The policy of truth _

* * *

It had been a tricky affair trying to fit everyone onto the elevator, to wherever the hell they were going. Troy was crammed nearly shoulder to shoulder with other the soldiers, plus a nervous CEO, and an ill-tempered commandant.

Awkwardly enough, he just heard a soldier passing gas through his suit, even over the loud machinery of the elevator.

“Shouldn’t of had that ratch-wich...” He heard him mutter. Troy was dying by the time they reached the top. 

After taking what seemed like the longest elevator ride in his life, Troy had exited his prison and smelled blessed fresh air for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

The underground prison had been connected to the janitorial maintenance tunnels. From there, Troy was led to the courtyard, cool night air feeling like a small kiss on his skin. He could smell freshly cut grass and heard the rustling of leaves from the trees. It was unnaturally too loud and was almost surreal. When Troy had been shoved down in the cell, he nearly lost sense of time. Goosebumps erupted across his flesh when he saw the Promethean moon floating high overhead. Lor had led him through the ATLAS, with a dozen soldiers at his back. 

“I’ll see you guys in my office! Gotta get some things set up.” Rhys waved at the group. He had separated from them, using a secure ECHO line to travel to his office at the top of the building. 

When they reached the office building, Troy was greeted by another bevy of soldiers. 

“Got a lot soldiers, here.” Troy whistled. “They all for me?” 

“Yeah.” Lor casually commented. He checked the barrel of his rifle and strapped it to his back. He shot Troy a distrustful glance. 

“Don’t even think about running. They’ll empty your stick arse full of bullets if you do.”He warned. 

Troy was about to retort with usual brand of sarcasm, then stopped. If he were honest with himself, he probably would have escaped the first moment he had a chance. But ATLAS looked to be a huge, sprawling facility, and he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to manage that feat. His height would have made him an easier target, and he didn’t have an arm. All factors that were overwhelmingly against him. 

Troy was “escorted” to the employees luxury break area. Like the rest of the ATLAS HQ, it was red-tiled and angular. White walls and futuristic red stripes made it cleaner and more uniform. It had been late at night when he had been released, so the office had been long since closed. The janitor who had worked the graveyard shift had been given quite a start when he met eyes with the infamous war criminal.

“Pretty sweet setup you ATLAS guys got here.” His footsteps echoed off the walls. He looked around the shower room in wonder. 

“Nice...” Troy muttered. He walked up to one of the stalls and fiddled with the touch pad. The water turned on. Lor stood there, frowning at the tall, irritating man. 

Troy turned to shoot him a grin. It was bordering on leery. 

“You gonna watch me shower, and make sure I don’t escape?” He waggled his eyebrows at him. 

Lor sighed noisily. Why Rhys would want this prick walking free was a  terrible idea. 

“You got an half an hour, asshole.” Lor sourly told him. Then he left. Troy could hear the angry muttering of “bloody wanker.” 

Troy gave him a mocking salute as he stomped off. 

He turned back to the shower room, feeling excitement for the first time he hadn’t in a while. 

“Might as well take advantage of it!” He let out an excited whoop. 

He shucked off his filthy clothes and intently watched the water running until there was a noticeable steam rising. He was itching to get under it. After thrumming with impatience, he shoved himself under the spray of water. 

“Oh, ah, ah, hot!” He hissed in pain as it scalded his skin. Shit felt hotter than the Pandoran winds on a summer afternoon. 

It was the best thing  _ever._

Troy nearly cried when he felt hot water for the first time in a long while. He hardly fucking cared if he was getting first degree burns from the scalding spray. He didn’t know when he was going to get another chance at a hot shower anyways. 

_“Oh, shit...” _ Troy groaned in pleasure. Many more moans and expletives of pleasure followed as he let the water washed over him. 

The hot shower felt like pure bliss, raining down to wash away the taint of being in a dirty cell for a whole year. It felt purifying. He was in absolute heaven. 

Heated water was a commodity and this shit was not going to waste. The water flattened his hair against his head. He placed his head and his hand against the heated tiled wall and just let the water overtake him, letting his eyes slide close. The rhythmic falling of the water was relaxing. Rivulets of water ran down his tanned body, regretfully going into the drain.

Troy had bathed in sink water for that year. It had been degrading, but he wasn’t so far above keeping his basic dignity and his hygiene intact. It was going to be a wintry cold day in hell if he was going to turn into that weird, filthy Sun Smasher chief on Pandora.

What was his name? Vander? Vinny? Whatever, his stench was more memorable than he was. 

“Soap, soap, soap...” He muttered, started looking around the stall like a mad man. There had to be body wash or something.

“Aha!” He fiddled with the touch panel and a small nozzle popped out with a beep. He shrugged, dumping the soapy liquid all over his body. He began to lather up, liberally soaping his body up and down.

Minutes later, Troy stepped out of the shower, feeling much cleaner than he had in ages. A large towel was wrapped around his waist. He was whistling a tune, a considerable bounce in his step. He considered gallivanting around the shower room naked, but then decided against it. He didn’t his want new pal Lor getting an eyeful of his junk. 

The male Siren found a mirror and bowed down to peer at it. The difference was startling. Troy looked unrecognizable. There was a man with wild wet hair and equally wild eyes staring back at him. He gained some muscle definition due to working out in his cell, though he still had considerable lank. He had regrettably lost his ear gauges in the fight against the Vault Hunters. The sad, drooping cartilage was a reminder of that. Either he needed them replaced or the loose cartilage had to go. He wondered if there was a Quick Change machine around.

His hair had gotten a great deal longer, falling in an uneven tangled wet curtain around his shoulders.

Using the wall mounted laser shaver, he set to the task of cutting his hair. He turned his head this way and that, trying to lop off sections of his hair with some care. It was a bastard getting his hair right when he had one damn arm. The dark locks fell to the floor around his feet. His hair was far shorter, about several inches before he was incarcerated at ATLAS. His hair was closer to his head, looking almost boyish in length. The fringe was still apparent. It wasn’t a neat job, but he looked different. 

Troy stared at himself again. For the first time in his life, he was comfortable with his own reflection. 

He looked healthier, stronger. More so then when he was younger. The harsh lines of his face had lessened, the dark circles under his eyes had also receded. It had been only been a year, yet the difference was unsettling.

He stepped out the shower room, feel infinitely cleaner and more human than he had in a long time. Now, the issue was clothes. 

_Surely, they could have some spare clothes in my size lying around._ He thought sarcastically. 

He stepped out of the shower room back and found his way back to the locker room. On one of the benches was his new pal, Lor. The short man glared him down again. He looked briefly surprised at his hairstyle, but was otherwise unaffected. 

“Can I help you?” He drawled.

Lor cast him a disdainful glance and then abruptly tossed a black metal suitcase at Troy.

Being in a cell for over a year had dulled Troy’s reaction time somewhat. He clumsily caught it against his chest. The action nearly loosened the towel around his hips. It was times like these that he sorely missed the convenience of his robot arm. It was gone from the shoulder, exposing the scarred flesh underneath. 

Troy adjusted the suitcase with a single arm and looked down at it. The iconic Atlas logo looked back up at him

“So... what’s this?” He asked, feeling slightly foolish. He shook the case at Lor. 

“Consider it a present from Rhys.” He said shortly. “Get dressed, then we’ll get you fitted. See you outside.”

God, why did this dude have such a stick up his ass?

Troy shrugged. He gave the commandant another mocking salute as he left to give some privacy. He clicked open the case and let out an appreciative whistle at the things inside. 

Clothes. And really nice looking clothes at that. 

“Nice...” 

He picked through the clothes. Dark V-neck shirt, dark slacks, combat boots, socks, underwear, and much to his amusement, a pair of fingerless gloves which were only half useful. There was even a white coat with studded lapels that looked similar to his last coat, complete with a dark, furry collared hood. Though the collar wasn’t as dramatically large.

After picking through most of the contents, he found something that caught his eye. It had a distinct, familiar red glow, showing through the dark clothes in the case. With a shaking hand, he pulled them out carefully, placing them against his forehead in a reverent gesture. He thought he lost them _forever. _It was the last thing his mother gave him before she had-

Very briefly, he could imagine the husked form of his mother, crumbling to  _nothingness as Tyreen turned to Troy, fear in her eyes- _

_Nope_.  He thought firmly.  _Not_ _gonna think about that shit. _

Setting the necklaces aside, he began to pull his clothes on, starting with his underwear. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to dress himself. 

His new clothes were a great deal baggier. 

Troy gave himself a once over in the mirror. He ran a hand through his thoroughly shortened hair in appreciation. 

“Lookin’... normal.” He muttered. As normal as a one-armed freak could, anyways.

He stared at himself again. He placed his hand against the reflection. Troy didn’t know who this stranger was.

He didn’t have long to stare, however.

“Oi!” He could hear Lor yell through the door. “Time’s up!” 

He snatched his hand away from the mirror and shook his head. 

Minutes later, he had been led to Research and Development department. It looked like a wideconcrete hallway with an elongated automated walkway spanning it. Various projects were spread across floor, carefully sectioned off between thick panes of glass. In one section, there was a high-tech ATLAS suit being torched, only to come away pristine. In another, one of the scientists loaded a tracker bullet into a dummy target. Then, he turned around and emptied the entire clip of the gun into the air. The bullets floated briefly in midair, before they sequentially sought out the target and shredded it to pieces. Troy felt his palm itching, enviously looking at the ATLAS gun with awe. 

Many of the RND scientists took notice of his entrance. Some stopped halfway through their experimenting, warily eyeing him through the thick glass. They were told by their boss to expect the man, but they were still terrified. Troy felt a touch uncomfortable, like he was some exotic specimen. 

Troy had been led a sterile medical room towards the back of the hall. There was a chair in the center of the room. The headrest had a hole in the center, like one of those massage chairs he saw on the Zanara. 

A doctor in a white medical smock was present in the room. Troy didn’t he he was there until he saw some flesh colored arms and a pair of glasses looking at him. He looked at Troy. 

“Sit here, please.” He mechanically informed the man.

Troy was about to refuse. He didn’t know what to the hell he signed up for. The ATLAS soldiers sensed his reluctance and aimed their guns at his back. 

“You wanted to be free, mate?” Lor stated in a flat tone. “Sit in the damn chair or we’re throwing you back in prison.”

Troy wasn’t in a position to refuse. He made another rude noise with his teeth. 

“Fine.” He snapped. 

“Face down towards the headrest.” The doctor instructed. “And try to relax.” He stressed. 

Troy plopped down in the chair and leaned into the hole. The doctor chuckled. 

“This will only take a moment.” Troy could hear a pair of gloves being snapped on, followed by the telltale rattling of a tray being rolled in. Then, he could hear metallic object being picked up off the tray. 

“You’ll only feel a small pinch.” 

Troy felt his hair being parted, then something was abruptly shoved into his spinal implant. White hot pain shot through his body, causing the man’s body to momentarily seize. Troy let out an involuntary shout of pain.

“Oww, what the hell was that?!” Troy half-yelled. 

He shot up from the chair and immediately ran his hand over the back of his neck, feeling out his spinal implant. Troy had been so used to the metal that it hardly bothered him. There was something now more foreign feeling placed there. It felt heavy and intrusive, despite it being indistinguishable in both bulk and weight. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s a tracking device. Can’t have you walking totally free, now, can you?” The doctor chuckled again. 

Troy was immediately assailed with a headache. His hand dropped away and he felt nauseous. 

“Fuck...” He groaned, leaning against the chair for support. 

“Sorry. Boss’ orders. That’s just some of the fluid from your brain pan being displaced. It’ll pass.” The doctor replied with a shrug. 

“He’s all yours, sir.” He gave a thumbs up to the Coffee Commander. 

Troy was once again “escorted” to the Rhys’ office. What was it about stupidly long elevator rides? Troy was leaning heavily against the glass wall, leg rapidly bouncing up and down. His anxiety was spiking through the roof. He had his arm crossed over his midsection, expression mired in a surly pout. His headache from the implant was still there. Lor had taken the elevator with him, while the rest of ATLAS soldiers stayed ground level. 

Troy strolled into the office, seeing Rhys talk to a smaller hologram. Rhys finally noticed his entry and Troy couldn’t help but let his irritation flare even more. 

Little did Troy know, Rhys had already been talking to Ava as Troy was getting ready. He knew former cult leader wouldn’t readily acquiesce, so he had to think up a little creative solution that would hopefully work itself out. 

“Ahh, and there he is now! You ready?” Rhys greeted. He looked genuinely surprised by his appearance. 

“Goddammit.” Troy was pissed. “That implant hurt like a sonabitch. You coulda warned me—“ 

“So, I have important CEO things to attend to. I have to send you over the Crimson Raiders,  now.”  Rhys interrupted.

Wait, this was the group?

Troy wrenched his head up in shock. Lo and behold, there was that _stupid fucking twinkle_ in his eye. 

Oh,  _fuck_ no. Not yet, not  ever.

Troy immediately spoke up to protest Rhys’ dumb decision. 

“Wait! What the _fuck, _Strong-“ 

The distinctive blue tunnel exploded in his vision. Troy felt the the abrupt displacement of the digistruct, then he felt himself appear in a completely different place. 

_“—fork.”_ He lamely finished. 

Troy’s feet touched a metal floor. He looked around his new surroundings, utterly bewildered. It looked like the bridge of ship in outerspace. He heard the screech of an animal and looked around to find the source of the noise. 

He made eye contact with a girl with blue hair and immediately froze.

She looked different. She had grown up, but he  knew her from anywhere. He could easily see the Siren tattoos running up the length of her left arm. 

“Holy crap!” Claptrap obnoxiously and obviouslycommented. “Is that who I think it is!?” 

The girl looked horrified at her new “guest.” The Siren commander looked as though she was seeing a nightmare from her past.

Recognition and guilt started to occupy the man’s thoughts. 

They were staring at each other as Rhys apprehensively eyed the two. For someone so brilliant, Rhys had terrible foresight when it came to planning for things like this. 

Sweat started to rapidly bead on Troy’s forehead and his heart rate began to palpitate. Troy was a fast thinker on his feet. So why, for the love of  _fuck_,was he firmly rooted in place, staring back at her like some skag caught in the headlights?

_Do something, dumbfuck!_ His brain yelled at him. 

In the few short minutes of his abrupt grand entrance, themale Siren could have done anything. He could have  groveled at her feet. He could have shown he was unarmed and was a total non-threat. 

Instead, Troy broke into an entirely inappropriate and nervous grin.

_ “Ahahahaha_ _...”_ He anxiously chuckled. She wasn’t laughing with him. “Hey!” He greeted, raising his only hand in attempt to be affable. 

“So, uh...I guess that Siren thing did work out, afterall?” He sheepishly asked. 

If Troy was trying to be friendly, he was going about it in poor way. Ava remembered another line he mockingly spoke to her when they were on Promethea, with sudden clarity. 

_ You know, If that Siren thing ever works out... _ _ . _

Troy’s dumb, grinning face fell as he saw the Commander’s face twist into an ugly rictus of _unadulterated rage._

She didn’t even think. Ava was temporarily blinded by a violent curtain of _red, red, **red. **_

The calm, inner maturity she thought she developed disappeared in a flash. All the pent up rage and grief over time that she kept tightly leashed inside was now ready to be unleashed on this _rat-faced bastard._

Ava had acquired a sudden blood thirst for vengeance as her powers roared out deep within her, crying out for justice. Her Siren tattoos shone a brilliant, blinding blue as she threw a phase-shield over the man.

“_Let me fucking show you!” _

Ava was going to  kill him. She was going to slowly crush him into a ball to make him feel the pain she felt. She was going to make him regret _ever_ crossing paths with her. 

Troy felt the space around him suddenly compress, forcing him to bend down one on knee.

The moment he felt the blue bubble close around him, he panicked. What he didn’t anticipate was that he instinctively threw his own Siren arm up, his own red tattoos glowing brightly in response. The powers that he thought he didn’t have were now suddenly useable. His own Siren powers were keeping the shield at bay, much to his surprise. Surprise turned to sheer determination as he fiercely pushed back.

The girl in front of him also looked surprised, but she forged on, determined to end him. 

Neither Siren heard the panicked protests of Rhys.

“Oh, no! Wait, wait, wait! I-I can explain!”  Rhys tried to interject. He knew Ava would be upset, but he didn’t anticipate her trying to murder Troy immediately. 

Really, anyone who wasn’t blind could see how bad of idea it was. 

“What the—“ Ava panted harshly with the effort. “—fuck is  he doing  _ **here**__**?” **_Ava snarled at Rhys. She viciously balled her hand into a tight fist, attempting to bring her phase shield further down on Troy. The ship rattled hard, but stayed firm. 

Troy gritted his teeth so hard, he swore he could feel the metal canines drilling into his skull. 

“Whoa! Whoa! ” Rhys panicked. “Look, I know what you’re thinking—“

“Is this— your idea of a  _damned joke?!” _

“He’s the secret weapon!” Rhys quickly interrupted. He shrunk under the fierce glare of the Commander. 

“You’ve —  fucking **lost it**—  if you think I’m going to let Maya’s murderer on  _ my _ _ ship!”_ A heavy sweat formed on Ava’s brow. 

Troy’s Siren tattoos only flared brighter. The harder she tried to crush him, the harder he pushed back to repel her. It was like she was trying to submerge a buoyant ball underwater. The harder she pushed down, the more it bobbed upwards. It was creating ominous waves that shimmered through the air. Troy could somehow feel her concentration wavering with the effort. 

The bridge of Sanctuary seemed to tremble and shudder under their effort of their battle. Unbeknownst to either of them, their powers were having a dramatic effect on the ship. With every pull and pulse of their Siren magic, the console screens started to rapidly blink and fuzz. The stacks of paper work flew off the consoles and were scattered to and fro.

”Look-“

Rhys had tried to talk, but their powers were interrupting his ECHO transmission. His hologram rapidly twitched as it struggled to maintain connection. 

Ava had furiously pushed the bubble downwards and Troy somehow redirected it. With one push, the steam vents overhead burst open. With the second, klaxons started to blare warnings as the ship rattled even harder. 

Members outside of the bridge were screaming and running around in a blind panic, wondering what the hell was going on. 

“EY! Yo! _Commander!”_ BALEX sharply hollered. “Whatever you’re doing, cut that shit out! You’re gonna kill us all!” 

Ava heard the computerized voice and stopped, surprised at the damage. It was the perfect distraction. With one final heave of exertion, the man wrenched his arm upwards and dissipated Ava’s shields. The use of his powers had Troy wheezing from extreme exertion. He bent over to catch his breath, winded from the effort.  He was still warily eyeing the blue-haired girl who was clearly full of murderous intent.

Rhys looked around their bridge in wonder, stunned. He decided to interject one last time. 

“Look! Just listen a second!” Rhys pled. Ava felt suddenly drained of her powers. She still wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She steadfastly ignored the CEO and whipped out her gun, training it on Troy. She stepped a careful distance back, ready to empty him full of bullets if he made any sudden moves. 

Troy slowly raised his single hand, palm outward. His trademark mechanical arm was no where in sight. Ava remembered it was in pieces a little over a year ago on Pandora. The gesture of non-violence made her hesitate. 

“— I know you two haven’t been on the best of terms, but he can help! Just work with him a little!” Rhys insisted.

Ava’s eyes suspiciously slid to Troy. 

What fucking alternate universe did she stumble into? Why was Rhys Strongfork was defending this  _monster_ who tried to bring down his company? 

“I know you’re an idiot, but this is fucking stupid even for the likes of you! Take him back!” She yelled, flinging her hand out at Troy.

Rhys, at his wit’s end, immediately snapped back. The stress of running both an army and a corporation made him less tolerable to Ava’s petty bullshit. 

“Well,  excuse me  if you haven’t delivered on your promise to find the next Vault! Wasn’t that part our deal?” Rhys spat back, voice full of venom. Troy facepalmed. 

Ava glared up at Holo-Rhys. Troy was momentarily spared from her wrath. The nerve of this asshole!

_You’re not helping, Strongfork. _ Troy wryly wanted to comment. He knew once Ava stopped being angry with Rhys, she was going to turn on him and try to kill him again. He didn’t feel like he had the energy to defend himself for a second time. He felt oddly calm about his impending fate.

“_Excuse me _if I’m going all over the universe, trying to fend off both the COV and Maliwan!” She hotly defended. 

Rhys’ anger immediately deflated. The CEO looked apologetic. Troy watched their uncomfortable exchange, feeling like chopped rakk liver. 

“I’m just trying to help.” He offered. “But you gotta admit, our situation is pretty damn dicey. I get it, it’s hard to be a Commander! You still lack, uh,  _experience.” _Hetried to put delicately. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She questioned. 

“I mean, you’re not Lilith or Maya...” He tried to smooth over.

Troy felt the room go several degrees colder.

Rhys had crossed a line, and he knew it. Ava’s face went from apprehensive to looking like she was going to personally Fast Travel down to Promethea to completely  eviscerate him. 

“Oh, eh. Um... Well then!” He floundered, courage gone. “Troy, report back to me once you’ve been situated with the Raiders.  _Rhys out.” _ He finished in a meek voice, quickly leaving Troy to fend for himself.

Troy narrowed his eyes at the disappearing hologram. 

_Thanks for dick, Strongfork! _

“You... you fucking coward!” Ava shouted, slamming on the console. She rapidly tapped away at the terminal, trying to force open communications with Rhys again. It was too late, he locked it down tight. Much to her dismay, he locked down the Fast Travel, meaning she couldn’t send her new “guest” back. 

“Dammit!” She shrieked, kicking it out of frustration. Troy was momentarily forgotten. 

“Ahh... ARGH! Grah!” 

After a few minutes, Troy cleared his throat to get her attention. Ava turned to Troy, looking positively livid. Troy shrunk a little under her glare. She looked ready to rip his balls off and feed it to him. The hostile, murderous rage in her eyes had cooled to slow rolling boil of hatred.

“You should have died on Promethea! Hell, I should have let Tyreen finish you off on Pandora!” She fired off. 

_Hold up._

Troy clearly remembered that day. She stopped Tyreen on purpose? Troy hesitated on what to say. He swallowed down the painful lump that formed in his throat. 

“You heard Strongfork. I’m here to...  help.” He finished quietly. 

Ava let out disbelieving laugh. “You’re here to help?  To _help?” _ Her temper was getting the best of her, but she didn’t care. Troy watched her as she angrily circled him.

“The reason any of this is shit is still happening is because  _you_ and your sister started this whole mess in the first place!”

Ava was ready tear to into him again. She faltered a bit when she saw how utterly defeated he was. His stance was drawn in and tight. There was no strutting arrogance. Ava hesitated. Then her mouth set in a firm line.

She walked right up to Troy and jabbed a finger against his chest. She wasn’t afraid of him then, she certainly wasn’t going to fear him now. Troy’s Siren tattoos started to flare again, much to both of their surprise. Hers glowed in response.  She angrily snatched her hand away. 

“You wanna help the Raiders? _Fine. _You can start by staying here until I can decide what to do with you.” 

She angrily turned to Troy one last time. 

“One wrong move, and I’m going to throw you in the cargo hold and airlock your slimy ass out to space!” She snarled, not bothering to wait for his reply. 

“Claptrap, keep him company.” Ava spat. She could already feel an oncoming headache. She already knew there was more damned paperwork she had to look over. 

There was one particular person she needed to consult with on the matter of Troy.

“Of course, Commander!” 

She stalked out, slamming her fist on the door’s console, then exited the bridge. The metal door slammed close with a thunk. The lights had powered down, leaving the glow from the consoles. She had powered down the room so that Troy couldn’t fuck with the ship. 

Troy rapidly blinked. He let out a terse breath he realized he had been holding onto. 

Well, that went  better than he expected. He slowly got to his feet. At least he wasn’t crushed into space spam, which he was sure he would have been his fate if he thought he didn’t have non-existent powers. He looked down at his arm and flexed his hand. The Siren tattoos had dulled again. He was still trembling from the effort. 

“Oh man, I can’t believe it’s you!” A small, yellow robot puttered up to Troy. His singular eye glowed in the darkness, making it slightly creepy.

“You’re the asshole who killed Maya!” He continued cheerfully.The man felt his under eye ticking. 

“...Hey.” Troy casually greeted.

“I am a CL4P-TP unit, but you can call me Slayer of the Destroyer, Killer of the Siren Leech Tyreen Calypso, _AND_ Super General of the Crimson Raiders!” 

Troy didn’t bother to reply. He had a feeling he already wasn’t going to like this little yellow nuisance.

Claptrap looked Troy up and down. 

“You’re tall for a human! Oh, I’ve got an idea! I officially designate  _you_ as my servant! You should be honored! Go forth servant, and fetch some wheel oil for your Super General-“ 

A vein was ticking on Troy’s forehead. The headache he possessed was coming back in full force. Perhaps he’d take up the Commander’s offer, after all. Being air-locked sounded appealing right about now.  He stared at the door, where the Commander left through. 

He had a feeling that despite his good intentions, he was going to face more complications in the near future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, Troy’s on board the Sanctuary. Shit’s going down, but in a “slow burn, make you feel good like a cool whiskey” kinda way. 
> 
> I’m just a filthy parasite like Troy. Your reviews sustain me. Be my Tyreen, plz.


	8. Weird Science

** Weird Science - Oingo Boingo **

_Fantasy and microchips_

_ Shooting from the hip _

_ Something different _

_ We're makin' weird science. _

* * *

Tannis was in her lab, studiously toiling away at her latest Eridian find. The slab that the Raiders retrieved at Eden-3had been a font of valuable information. 

She was about to depict another passage of the Eridian slab when she felt a telltale tingle in the air. She was paying attention to the slab when she heard the Vault Keys rapidly communicating with each other... Interesting. She stood up from her chair to examine the Vault Keys before everything had been thrown into absolute chaos. Sanctuary shook and tumbled, and Tannis had clung onto a medical chair for support. Alarms started to blare and the unintelligent apes outside of her lab were running back and forth in panic, shouting at each other to find the problem. Thankfully, the problem had stopped about a minute afterwards. 

Sanctuary had seen its better days. Just last month, the ship had been hit with a solar flare despite the Ellie’s claims of installing EMP shielding. However, this sensation had been different, as if it came from the ship itself. The sensation had been similar to her phaseshifting abilities and that had piqued her curiosity, leaving her to wonder of its mysterious source. 

When nothing happened in the past several minutes, she shrugged. She sat back at her bench and resumed the task of translating the Eridian slab, intently reading out a passage detailing the Vault on Eden-3. 

How fascinating! All was well, until a certain Commander of the Crimson Raiders showed up. No doubt she was here to muddle up the place with her youthful angst. Tannis barely acknowledged her presence with a thoughtful nod.

The young commander looked ready to explode. These days, she looked a little ragged. Tannis feared somewhat for the young Commander’s sanity. She wondered if Ava might “fly off the deep end.” 

“Tannis?” The scientist didn’t respond. 

“Tannis!” Again, no response.

Ava immediately launched into a seething rant.

“Tannis, something  _major_ happened! I can’t believe it! Rhys called and said—“

Tannis rolled her eyes, but she was resolute in ignoring her. Anything from the twitchy, mite-colonizing CEO was trivial. It probably wasn’t as major as Ava had made it out to be. On certain days, the girl would come in and spill out her feelings to Tannis, as if she were some sort of personal ECHO log or a diary. Ava had a special talent for using the scientist as a sounding board when she got  _moody__. _And her moods had gotten bleak as of late. 

She really was fond of Ava,truly.It was just when Ava talked about her feelings, Tannis was at a total loss. Emotions were something the scientist only began to understand. She had little to no idea on how to console Ava. Ruthlessly brilliant scientist she may be, Tannis was not a  “people person.” 

Ava always came in to talk about her... Ugh.  _Feelings_.  The very thought of Tannis discussing what she deemed such trivial, benign matters made her want to an anti-emetic. Or several. 

However, the scientist never had the heart to tell her to get out. Tannis may have emotionally stunted, but she wasn’t entirely lacking of emphatic qualities. She recognized when the younger Siren needed the support. The past year had been hard on everyone, but especially Ava. Tannis was the closest thing Ava had to a mother, considering the fate of Lilith and Maya. Eventually, Ava’s temper would settle down and she would leave. 

Ava chattered on, undeterred by Tannis’ lack of response. She kept angrily pacing back and forth. The scientist would occasionally listen to the Commander, but then her attention would abruptly switch back to the more important task of her research. Though time was a social, scientific construct to measure one’s physical place in the universe, she could still divert precious seconds towards the Eridian slab. Since Ava had come in, the translation process had become painfully slow-going. 

Using the Eridian Translator, she scanned the next passage. Ahhh, fascinating! The Eridian word for _“_ _sacrifice”_ could also be translated to _ “shield,”_ dependent on its contextual, historical usage of-

“—Maya was right! You can’t trust a guy with a mustache! That mustachioed jerk said—“ 

Tannis let out a huff. Even with her intense concentration on the task, it was difficult. At least when Greb got chatty, she had the option to shut him off, even after particularly heated arguments. It was a shame the same couldn’t be said for young, impatient Ava. The scientists considered phaseshifting her doors locked to keep the blue haired nuisance out for future endeavors, but it was an exercise in futility. The girl could pick locks with brutal efficiency.

Tannis let out a short but impatient sigh. She stood up from her chair, then held up a hand to stop another incoming what she was certain was another incoming angry tirade from the young Commander. If anything, it was to stop the auditory assault on Tannis’ ears. Ava shut her mouth and Tannis was blessed with momentary silence. 

Nothing a little Digby Vermouth couldn’t solve! 

“Commander, have you come here with a query? Or have you come to deliver some important news? My research as of late requires intensive dedication and I’ve no time for...  _idle banter.”_ She hissed out the last two words with clear distaste.

Ava blinked. So, she did listen! 

_Maybe._

“Troy Calypso is on Sanctuary!” Ava quickly blurted out. 

There was a brief moment of awkward silence between the two Sirens. Ava’s particular statement had gotten her attention. 

She didn’t feel dread or fear, or even anger. Instead, Tannis was  curious. 

Troy was alive? How utterly fascinating! 

She remembered her particular conversation with Rhys a year ago shortly after Troy Calypso’s capture. She had wanted his cadaver, but nothing fruitful had come of it. She tucked her hand under her chin, her brows furrowed thoughtfully, as she faced away from the Commander. She had wondered why Rhys was awfully silent when she inquired about the whereabouts of Troy’s samples. 

She turned back to Ava, who was watching her with an expectant expression on her face. She was clearly waiting on the scientist’s reaction. Anything. Tannis cleared her throat. 

“Troy Calypso, you say? Son of Typhon De Leon? Former cult leader?” She coughed uncomfortably. “Well, I could see how his presence here could culture a potentially... hostile enviroment.”

To be honest, the Calypso twins hardly registered in her memory. Tannis barely had any emotional hangups after what she referred to as “the incident.” 

Most people would have been traumatized by being almost sacrificed to an ostentatious murder circus. The only word that succinctly came to Tannis’ mind was “annoyed.” It was merely something she filed away to the back of her brilliant brain. After that unfortunate  fiasco , she had turned her attention to the Eridian finds. 

“No shit, Tannis!” Ava replied, crossing her arms. “By the way... Something weird happened. I tried using my powers to—“ Her eyes shifted to the side.

“—kill him , but it was like he repelled them.” 

That had gotten her attention. Finally, Ava was saying things that had garnered her interest. 

“Was that the source of the disturbance earlier?” She questioned. “Did he do anything peculiar?”

“He threw up his arm and his Siren tattoos lit up like Pandoran Flat.”

Tannis had quickly deduced that the disturbance on the ship had come forth from their little altercation. 

“Repelled them, you say? Interesting! Did he use anything else? Any other powers you could divulge?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I came here. I was wondering if you knew anything about it.” Ava admitted with a shrug. 

“Why, I’m flattered that you came to me for Eridian knowledge, Commander!” She cheerfully replied. 

Ava smirked. “It’s not like I know any other Eridian expert.” 

It was a private little joke they shared. Ava’s face then became serious. 

“I was wondering if you can do some research on him. I don’t want his powers being a problem if... something happens.” Ava gestured vaguely.

Tannis nodded rapidly. 

How could he even be alive? What were his powers? A thousand questions had invaded her mind. A thousand theories to be tested. She was itching to test out and answer  _all_ of them. 

His very existence was curiosity that needed to closely examined. She regrettably couldn’t get any of his samples in the aftermath of their fight, but a  living specimen  was exactly the thing she needed. Her green eyes gleamed with ideas.

“Yes, yes, yes... Of course, Commander!” 

Her ever analytical brain had whirred with the beginnings of a brilliant idea. Troy Calypso also had a fantastic wealth of knowledge of Eridian lore by large due to his deceased parents. She nodded rapidly, humming. The possibilities were profoundly exciting! She hated people, nay,  despised them, but perhaps getting in the know with the Siren proxy would  greatly benefit her in the pursuit of her scientific endeavors! 

“Where did you keep him, Ava?” 

“I locked him in the bridge with Claptrap.” 

“Then I shall meet him right now. No, I _must_!” Tannis nodded, chuckling. The sound was worryingly manic. 

She reached the door of her lab and stepped out of her sterile threshold, eager to seek out Troy with a quickness. And to keep her contact with outside germs to a bare minimum. 

“Right now... Wait, Tannis?” Ava shouted in surprise. She trailed off after the harried scientist. She didn’t know that the scientist would be  that eager to meet Troy. 

“There’s no time like the present!” Tannis chuckled again. 

Tannis emerged from her lab with an almost nauseating pep in her step. She skillfully dodged the lowly intelligent, filthy mongering plebeians as she set out to find Troy. Ava cautiously trailed behind her. 

“We should hurry. I imagine anyone locked in a room with Claptrap is going to drive them to do something inexplicably rash.”

They made their way to the bridge. Ava looked apprehensively at the bridge’s door. Taking a small breath, she went to the console and began to type away at the console to release the lock. The process had only taken less than a minute, thank  science.  Tannis’  skin was already itching.

Troy spilled out of the doorway, shock written all over his face.

“Hoo, shit! I’m fre-“ He made eye contact with Ava. 

He immediately shot up from and hid the circuit board behind his back, out of Ava’s line of sight. Given that he only had a single arm, the action was immediately suspicious. He eyed the Commander uneasily. Ava merely glared at him. 

“Wait! Don’t go, servant!” Claptrap cried out. “Did I ever tell you the story of that one time I—“ Ava pressed a button and the door shut closed again.

As it turned out, Ava had maliciously locked him in the bridge with the small bot. Being in a room with Claptrap was pure torture. At the ten minute mark, he couldn’t take it anymore, Commander’s orders be damned. Troy would have taken his chances out there then deal with this annoying, yellow terror. 

He had spent another ten good minutes hacking open the door while Claptrap chattered away. It had been a momentous feat of patience on Troy’s part. Claptrap’s version of_ “small talk” _made Troy want to voluntarily blow himself out an airlock and let the sweet release of death take him. _If only he could get out first._ He had managed to pry out some of the circuitry for the door... until Ava released the lock. 

He tried not to look to too guilty. 

“And there he is! Our new guest!” Tannis twittered in an attempt to be affable.

At first, he didn’t recognize the short haired brunette with googles, stepping out from behind the Commander as she walked up to Troy at a manic pace. He took a surprised step backwards when she all but thrust her hand into his face.

“Troy Calypso, how nice it is to see you again!” Tannis smiled, though the expression was somewhat forced. She supposed this was the correct way to greet someone, right? The man blinked rapidly in alarm. 

“Uhh...” 

Troy stared uneasily at her outstretched hand. He was afraid the contact would leech her, or something. He still didn’t know how his powers worked.

Troy didn’t take it and the scientist let out a light sigh of relief. She wiped her hand on her pants anyways. 

“You’re the weird scientist lady.” Troy stated, recognizing her. Tannis nodded, pleased. It wasunsettling on how her eyes seemed to sort of bug out with unblinking focus, like a Varkid’s.

“Yes, yes. That I am, indeed! It appears you  do remember who I am!” Tannis chirped, her tone almost patronizing. “Anyway, dreadful social pleasantries aside, I have come here for a reason.” 

“...Okay?” 

“I’ve heard from the Commander that you two had a scuffle of sorts. I was wondering as to how you’ve acquired your Siren powers.”

Ahh, so she wasn’t here to make nice. 

“I mean, I’ve always had them since I was born.” Troy nervously fiddled with the circuit board.

“Oh, really?” Her eyes were gleaming in that uncomfortable way again. 

“...My mother was also a Siren.” He shrugged. 

His personal history was lining up with many of her personal theories. Granted, the sample size was overwhelmingly small. 

“You.” She pointed to Troy. “Come with me!” Ava’s hand went to her gun. 

“Watch out, Tannis. He’s  _feral.” _ Ava warned. Her finger hovered over the trigger of her gun. 

Troy’s eyebrow twitched. He resisted the urge to drop a filthy joke.

“Really? Well, nothing a few shots can’t fix.” 

“I _assume_ you have had you’re shots?” She questioned, giving Troy a hard look.

“...No?” Troy answered honestly. 

“Really? Unbelievable!” Tannis was aghast. Having to deal with another one of the unwashed masses made her want to break out into hives. 

“Commander, I would recommend doing whatever needs to done. I shall keep him contained in the lab, should you attempt to murder him again. Al though, he certainly has more uses alive.” 

“Thanks for the suggestion, Tannis.” Ava replied dryly. Her eyes slanted in a dangerous glare as she leveled a look back at Troy. 

“Remember my warning. Anything happens to Tannis and you’re _done.” _She deadpanned, running her thumb across her neck in a slicing motion. Ava then left. She disappeared behind another door in the hallway.

There was an awkward beat of silence between the two. Tannis merely beamed at him. 

“Well, follow me. We’ll get you your shots, then we’ll get to the  fun part. Which is acquiring samples! For science!”

She hurried out of the hallway. Troy looked at the circuit board in his hand and dropped it near the door.

Troy had trailed behind the scientist, trying to make himself as small as possible. This place felt for cramped for his freakish height. He was already paranoid of beaning his head on something. The former cult leader was already getting quite a few stares from the other crew members. Tannis made no attempt at conversation. He was fine with that. 

They had gotten into the lab. The scientist pointed at the chair, then turned to a tray filled with various medical devices. Troy cast a cautious glance at the instruments.

“Sit there, please!” 

Troy shoved himself into the chair. Once again, he felt awkwardly low to the ground.

Tannis turned to the man, a syringe in her hand. She pushed the plunger slightly and flicked the bottom to let the air out. 

“Hold out your arm.” She instructed. 

He held out his only arm. Without giving any warning, Tannis jabbed the full length of needle into his arm and then slowly emptied the contents of the syringe into him. 

“Oww!” 

Tannis chuckled. She swabbed down the area. 

“And now for number two!”

She repeated the process again. It was just as painful as the first. 

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” Tannis said dismissively. “There’s all your shots! The wonders of modern medical science.” She promptly disposed of the needles.

“Say ‘ahh.’” 

“Ahh?” 

Tannis turned to him and quickly shoved a cotton swab inside of Troy’s mouth. She swiped it in several directions before depositing the sample into a flask for safe-keeping. She rapidly changed gloves.

“For someone as filthy looking as a bandit, the bacterial colonies in your mouth are surprisingly low in number.” Tannis commented, turning away as she readied another some tubes on a small metal rack. Several of the flasks had liquid Eridium in them. 

Troy closed his mouth, running the tip of his tongue over the top row of his teeth. He eyed the test tubes with interest. 

“Umm, thanks? I brush-“

“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment. Nor was it an attempt at idle conversation.” The Siren scientist interrupted.

Before Troy could comment, the woman turned away from him. 

“Honestly, Greb. He’s probably one of the first individuals that didn’t need to be decontaminated. It makes my job  so much easier.” The scientist chuckled, discreetly patting something on her belt. Tannis rapidly changed into another pair of gloves. It was apparent she was a huge germaphobe. 

Troy sat on the chair, speechless, and ogled at her as she continued to talk to have a full conversation with her... toothbrush? She was an odd bird, all right. Maybe crazy. Admittedly, he’d seen weirder things on Pandora. 

“Right, onto hair samples!” She somehow managed to look excited and disgusted by that. Troy shifted in his seat. He wondered if she was going to want to collect “other” samples. The thought made him feel a touch uncomfortable. 

“Oh, don’t worry. If I collect something like your semen, I’d sooner airlock myself into space!” Tannis was quick to reassure him, seemingly reading his mind. She meticulously plucked several strands off of his head. Tannis carefully deposited each strand into a flask, humming. 

“If anything, bone marrow and blood would be right up my alley. Less viscous. Still a veritable mine of genetic information.” 

“Hrmm.” Troy uncomfortably commented. 

“Sample one and sample two.” She carefully stoppered each flask close. She shook each sample and his hair dissolved in the Eridium liquid. Both samples glowed varying shades of bright purple. Troy eyed them.

“And now we have our control!” Holding up the final hair. She placed it into a flask. 

“Well, that was rather refreshing! Getting samples from another Siren only helps me in my studies!” This time, Troy didn’t bother to reply. Tannis was talking to her toothbrush again. 

Troy cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Hey, Tannis.” He tried. “Aren’t you afraid that I’ll  _try something?”_ He vaguely gestured with his hand. 

Tannis chuckled. 

“I’ll admit, I am somewhat afraid. Being in a presence of whom I thought was a formerly deceased enemy makes me... uneasy. However, I am willing to overlook it in the pursuit of acquiring your precious DNA.”   


So, she was just interested in him as a lab rat. Cool.

“Oh.” Came his bland response. 

“You forget that you’re in Raider territory now. I’m sure that if you attempt to maim or hurt me in any capacity, the Commander won’t hesitate to avenge my death. Besides...” 

Her expression became suddenly dark.

“You are in _my_ realm now, Troy Calypso. I don’t need  weapons to kill my enemies, of which I made plenty over the years.” She placed the hair samples inside of a centrifuge, then started up the machine.

“I have much more _insidious_ methods.” There was a sinister sounding chuckle that made Troy feel incredibly uneasy.

Between the tiny Commander and the scientist, Troy decided that pissing off Tannis would not be ideal. She’s _unpredictable. _

Troy suddenly felt the urge to apologize. 

“Hey, uh... sorry... about the whole ‘kidnapping and almost sacrificing you’ thing. That whole thing was sorta... Tyreen’s idea.”Troy apologized sheepishly, referring to the Carnivora incident. The Eridian scientist waved her hand, as if poo-poohing the gesture away. 

“Oh, water under a bridge... or whatever constitutes water on Pandora these days. I’m not dead, and that’s what matters!” She beamed. 

She turned away from him to put away her newly acquiredsamples. Tannis tucked away the rest of her medical tools. 

“Was that it?” He questioned. 

“Well, I’m going to run some cursory tests on your DNA.”

“Huh.” 

That wasn’t _so_ bad. Now all he had to do was wait. He rapidly drummed his fingers against the padded arm rest. 

“I feel I should also apologize.” Tannis suddenly piped up. 

“Huh?” Troy picked up his head to look at her. 

“I’m afraid I wasn’t entirely truthful when I said I was giving you shots.” 

Troy was starting to feel drowsy, like he was drifting into dreamland.

“...Huh?” He sluggishly replied. 

“One of them was a tranquilizer.” Tannis shrugged apologetically.

Troy shook his head. He straightened out and the leaned back in the chair, with the intent to stand. The movement only made him feel drowsier.

“Now, don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing!” She promised. 

“—Wha?”

“You wouldn’t want to be awake for these procedures, anyways.” Tannis pulled out an alarmingly large needle. He tried to focus on the needle, but his eyelids started to drift downwards towards his cheeks. 

“_Goddami—“ _ Troy babbled. He couldn’t move his limbs.

The last thing that crossed Troy’s mind was that today was turning out to be a  _very shitty day. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t like Tannis’ character in number Blands 3. I hope my depiction of her was entertaining, because I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, I’m glad this fic interests some of you.
> 
> As always, your feedback is super appreciated~


	9. Bury A Friend

** Bury A Friend - Billie Eilish **

_The debt I owe, gotta sell my soul_

_'Cause I can't say no, no, I can't say no_

_Then my limbs all froze and my eyes won't close_

_And I can't say no, I can't say no_

_Careful_

* * *

**A Year Ago**

The new Commander of the Crimson Raiders was rapidly tossing and turning in her sleep. She had tried to work herself into exhaustion so that she couldn’t dream. 

But some nights, it was impossible. 

She hated sleep, despised it. 

Because _he_ was there again. 

She heard his deep ominous laughter echoing through the all-encompassing dark. It was a cruel sound, one that sent chills down her spine and spread out to her delicate extremities. It was a sound that filled her with cold dread. 

Her breathing became erratic, quickly going in through her widening nostrils before being expelled out of her mouth. Ava broke into a panicked run. She stumbled, she tripped, but fear made her press on to escape. To flee this place. 

_Go. Go. Go—_ A small voice urged her. 

Ava blindly looked over her shoulder. His laughter was only getting closer...

It only made her run faster. The voice inside of her was _screaming. _

**GO- **

But it wouldn’t matter— he would always catch her. 

Before she knew it, an arm had shot out from the darkness, grabbing her by her frail neck— lifting her pitiful, small form effortlessly off the ground. He could easily crush her windpipe. He could break her. 

The blood red glow from his flayed Siren tattoos, as well as her own blue ones were the only sources of light in this suffocating, crushing darkness. They mingled together to make a sickly pale purple. 

It was then that she _felt_ it. It seeped into her core. The essence of her own life was withering away as he kept draining her. Ava sharply gasped, flailing, trying to fight him off, but she was just so weak. So helpless. She clawed at his hands, she kicked, but she was held in a steadfast iron grip. 

Ava saw his face split into an unnaturally wide grin, the violet red light glinting off his gold canines and his pale, predatory eyes. 

_ “ So... I see the Siren thing did work out after all.” _ He intoned, voice filled with wicked glee. 

Ava woke in a cold sweat, clawing at her neck in a blind panic as she screamed. 

She shot up from her bunk, rapidly looking around her room, clouded blue eyes trying to seek out a monster that wasn’t there. 

After a full minute, her breathing evened out. Her vision focused, and she could see. She was in her room in Sanctuary. 

Nothing or no one could hurt her here. She was  _safe_ . Ava curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. She often did that as a child to soothe herself. Ava slowly rocked back and forth. 

It was the same nightmare that had been haunting her since Maya’s death.

“He’s dead.” She murmured. Her eyes were smarting with tears, yet she fiercely held them back. She dashed them away with the back of her hand.

“He’s dead.” She repeated again, but her voice trembled. She wasn’t as confident as she sounded. 

Ava wasn’t able to sleep normally for several months after that.

* * *

**Now**

Ava stormed into her room, then slammed on the door console to close the door to her room. She wrenched off her scarf and tossed it into a some unknown corner. Then, she angrily paced back and forth. 

An uncharacteristically low growl erupted from her small form. 

_“Grr...” _She ground her teeth so hard it was audible. She crossed her arms, a habit she thought she broke herself of, and angrily chomped down on her thumbnail to suppress another frustrated yell. 

Earlier in her Commander days, Ava’s temper had often gotten the best of her. It had been a difficult, trying time, and she was... admittedly  less mature then. She learned to better control her emotions. 

The young Siren Commander hadn’t been this bent out of shape in a long while. 

She shook her head. 

Actually, _“bent out of shape” _was a piss poor idiom to describe what she was feeling right now.

Right now, right at this very moment, Ava was a formidable, volatile  _molotov cocktail_ of emotions. Her anger was explosive, and it had nearly killed them all. She was so fantastically pissed that she felt she could take on Amara and win. 

She angrily turned and slugged the punching bag in the corner of her room. The punching bag was a semi-recent addition she added when she was learning to get stronger. The heavy, weighted bag swung to and fro as it creaked on its supports_, _letting out a periodic, irritating screech. It had seen its share of better days. She had used it on the regular, especially after stressful nights. 

Ava strode across the length of her room, then wrenched out her chair from underneath her desk. She heavily threw herself into it. She glared at her punching bag and stopped it with her powers. The squeaking was annoying. 

Hermes appeared again, and Ava looked at him with surprise. He’d always had this habit of appearing and disappearing whenever it struck his fancy. She gave her little monster pet a small smile. Seeing him had helped her calm down somewhat. She gave him an affectionate stroke.

“Ancient breathing exercises...” She muttered. “Focus...” 

Minding her meditation practices, she took several cleansing breaths to find her center. She only felt marginally better. She frowned again when she heard a beep from her ECHO. Scrolling to mail section, there was something from Rhys. 

She clicked on it. It was a short worded message from the cowardly CEO: 

_Ava, I know you’re upset, but please read this report. Sorry for the subterfuge! I’ll admit it was wrong to sneak something like this behind your back, but give him a chance. _

_We’ll talk later. ‘Kay?_

_:)_

_-Rhys_

Ava felt her under eye rapidly twitching; she barely managed to keep temper in check. The moment he let his guard down, oh, she was going to  get ‘im , she vowed. It would take a good month to whittle his defenses _down. _

She impatiently swiped her finger over the ECHO display and opened the report.

A series of graphs popped up, as well as a scowling picture of Troy. Ava wasn’t prepared. 

True to his word, Rhys had given her a thorough and detailed report on Troy’s whereabouts in the past year. The information in the report included background details and to her surprise, a psych eval. It was data detailing Troy’s behavior in containment. Everything was laid out in a clear and concise fashion. Her eyes rapidly scanned the ECHO document. She had gotten quite good at reading. 

_Troy Calypso, Former propagandist of the Children of the Vault. Role and duties involved in the COV- _

Ava abruptly skipped away that section. She already knew that. She scrolled to the section on his containment.

_Troy Calypso (henceforth referred to as TC) had been kept in ATLAS’ isolation cells for a Promethean year. Expiration was expected around the seventy-two hour mark, as former DAHL scientist and Eridian expert, Patricia Tannis had explained previously that his Siren powers were one half of a shared power to his twin Tyreen. When it became apparent TC was not going to expire, he was put on strict surveillance_. 

_Subject showed signs of marked improvement in his health. No physical ailments were noted at the time of his inspection. _

So, apparently, he had been in imprisoned for a year. Ava’s stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought. He wasn’t some long dead ghost... just a large rat put in a cage. 

_He got off lucky. _ She silently fumed. But another part of her was burning with curiousity. She swiped to the next section. 

_In his year in containment, he has exhibited only slightly unusual behavior. Subject has kept to a varied, strict, physical regimen. However, he has exhibited unusual sleeping patterns. He appeared to sleep less than the average human being and tended to move erratically in his sleep. _

_Other unusual behavior exhibited by Troy included muttering a singular question, at random intervals throughout the day. Other behavior was self-afflicted harm, with the intent of suicide; though each attempt was short-lived. _

Ava swiped at the link to the video. 

It was Troy. He looked different. His hair had gotten wild. He sat on bunk and stared distantly up at the ceiling.

_“_ _What could I have done differently?”_ She heard him murmur. 

Ava stared at the holo-recording of a despondent Troy and frowned. She could never imagine him as pathetic, but seeing him like this made her feel a disturbing sense of sympathy. Before she could feel any stirrings of real pity, she flipped to the next section. 

Again, there was another video. She hesitated. 

_ “Heya, Strongfork... What brings you to my dirty and depressing cell today?”  _ She heard the familiar drawl. It was disturbing hearing it. 

She had watched the exchange between Rhys and Troy play out. Even though it was pre-recorded, it still felt intrusive to watch. She had been tense watching their entire exchange. She didn’t realize she had been clenching and unclenching her hands. She read his tense body language. He was a like an alpha skag in captivity. 

After the video had finished, she let out a breath. She couldn’t believe it. 

Ava flipped to his psychological profile next. 

_Subject appears highly intelligent. Even after a year of solitary confinement, TC was immediately on alert and coherent. No countermeasures were used_ to _subdue the subject._

_TC seems to display genuine remorse for his actions. While no verbal sentiment has been expressed, body language clearly suggests guilt. Appeared ready to offer up his assistance at Rhys’ suggestion. _

_Demeanor of TC is defensive and confrontational. Has trouble vocalizing his emotions and thoughts. Highly prone to fits of sarcasm. Bringing up any mention of his previous cult days is strongly ill-advised. Despite the marked change in attitude, TC should still be regarded as dangerous and unpredictable and as such, should be treated with extreme caution._

_For this reason, a highly proprietary ATLAS countermeasure has been installed on his cervical spinal index implant. At of the time of writing this report, TC only suspects the device is for tracking purposes. _

An ECHO app appeared on her screen. It was a tracker and biometric scanner all-in-one. 

_Should TC fulfill his initial requirements with the Crimson Raiders, its intended purpose will be revealed. _

_TC appears battle ready. No known physical illnesses were present. His past experiences with Vault Hunting, as well as his experiences with the COV should prove beneficial for the Crimson Raiders continued efforts to search and protect the Vaults. _

Ava stared at the report and sagged in disbelief. Rhys had managed to convince Troy Calypso to join the Crimson Raiders. Granted, he had done it in possibly the most obtuse, roundabout way possible, but  he did it. And without any violence. 

And now, Troy Calypso’s fate was currently in a young, inexperienced Commander’s hands. 

_No pressure! Nope. None at all. Everything was fine. _

Ava brought up her ECHO again and carefully regarded the report. She forced herself to compartmentalize her emotions. She read it several times over, just sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Several hours had passed until she felt she was finally done. The report had been an info-dump she wasn’t prepared for. And now she was getting just a slight case of _mental constipation. _

She rubbed at her temples. 

Feeling much more level-headed, Ava leaned forward on her desk and steepled her fingers. She then rested her forehead against her hands. Her leg rapidly bounced as she started to contemplate. Ava thought back on Troy’s terse words, during their brief yet intense exchange. 

_“I’m here to... help.” _

The Troy Calypso she knew in the past had stood proudly. He was brash and unapologetic. She knew him as an unrepentant, murderous ECHONet troll with a cult of bandits that would die for him. He was douche-bag alpha personified. 

But this Troy Calypso looked haggard. Defeated. It looked as the fight had truly left him. His shoulders were drawn in and he hunched over. One look in those eyes and she knew with certainty he had  _ changed .  _

Had Tyreen’s death affected him that much? 

Her mind was struggling to reconcile such a drastic change in his demeanor. Ava leaned back her chair, kicking her legs up on her desk. She stared sightlessly up at the ceiling as her ECHO dangled in her grasp. Ava’s eyes slid shut; she deliberately pressed the back of her hand against her tired eyes. She was already anticipating another oncoming  headache. 

Now that she viewed the report, she wasn’t exactly sure how to  feel about him.

It made him look  _human. _

That... complicated things.

In trying times like these, the former apprentice remembered Maya’s sayings. 

_ ‘ Judge someone by their actions. Not by their words.’ _ She could imagine Maya say. 

She remembered the story where Maya had befriended Krieg. If her mentor could give a screaming, murderous Psycho a chance, then what could be said about  Troy _fucking_ Calypso? 

_Well, shit._

The Commander found herself in quite the quandary.

“What do I do...?” She groaned.

Ava was internally fighting with herself. Her paranoid, fearful heart told her to toss the rat-boy out to the dogs. Troy Calypso deserved to rot. After all, he was a monster that deserved nothing less. 

The ambivalent, logical part of her, the more prevailing part, told her to follow her leader instincts. And they were telling her she could make him useful. Troy didn’t become a cult leader through sheer dumb luck. He had Siren powers. That had to account for something, right? 

It would be stupid to turn down an obvious advantage just because she being  _petty. _It was just as Tannis said - He could have more uses alive.

She let out a frustrated sigh. 

There was comprehensive data that showed Troy had, in fact, _changed._ Rhys hadn’t been lying. Ava had to admit with begrudging reluctance that Rhys maybe had been correct. 

But it was going to be cold day in hell before she ever admitted that out loud. And she was still monumentally pissed at him for pulling the wool over her eyes. 

“Was I being too rash? ...Maybe I was being too rash.” She admitted to herself. She could imagine Maya’s smirking face right now. 

_Rash is an understatement, kiddo._

If she had to be any sort of commander, she had to put her personal feelings aside. 

But it still didn’t mean she had to like him. Troy...  _Calypso_ , she quickly amended, was going to be a tool. Calling him “Troy” felt too friendly. Too familiar. 

Ava’s ECHO let out another beep. It was from Tannis. It didn’t seem to be urgent. She was confident that if Calypso did try anything stupid, Tannis would immediately poison him. The scientist was crazy prepared for any situation. And well, if Tannis failed, then Ava going to phaselock his ass out to space. 

“Tannis. What’s the situation with our... guest?” 

The scientist in question let out an annoyed sigh. 

“I have Troy under control and  comfortable,  but I’m afraid he won’t stay that way for that long. Perhaps another hour-“ 

“Comfortable?” She questioned, interrupting her. “Tannis... What did you to him?” She stood up from her chair, stretching. She switched to the hands free function on her ECHO and started to gather some things. 

Tannis chuckled. Ava could hear her putting away her various medical tools and what she was certain were other scientific implements of destruction away.

“I tranquilized him, of course! To keep him sedated.” She heard the audible snapping of gloves from Tannis’ end. 

_“Tannis! _Why’d you do that?” Ava was slightly appalled and more fascinated. She had to hand to Tannis, the scientist had some serious guts drugging a dangerous enemy. 

“Honestly, Commander? I am  not eager extract samples from him while he’s awake, he might not take it well. Have you seen his size? It’s like sedating two angry alpha skags.” 

“No kidding.” Ava dryly commented. She found her scarf and wrapped it around her head, displaying it in its usual hooded fashion. 

“So, have you decided what you’re going to do with him, Ava?” 

Ava swallowed down the lump in her throat.

_Be a Commander. Don’t be a fucking coward. Sure, he might have **maybe** traumatized you, but suck it up, you’re the Commander of the Crimson Raiders! _

This was a terrible idea. 

But she really needed the help. 

Goddammit.

“I’ll keep him on Sanctuary, for now.” She reluctantly replied. “I’m going to have a meeting with the other Raiders. Let them know... You just keep him comfortable.” 

“Very well! I shall gladly leave the messy details in your capable hands!” Tannis cheerfully replied. She ended her call, and Ava was met with dead silence. 

Now came the difficult part. 

Well, the  more difficult part. 

The other Vaulters were currently on Promethea, taking a short but well deserved break. It was good that they weren’t on the ship when Calypso had arrived, otherwise the proceeding fallout would have been more disastrous. 

Taking another measuredbreath, Ava phoned Amara. It rang twice before she promptly answered. 

“Ava.” Amara intoned. 

Ava still jumped at the sound of her stern voice. 

“Amara. We have... a situation.”

There was a slight pause. 

“What kind of a situation?”

“The kind that needs you and everyone else to be on Sanctuary.” She stated meaningfully. 

There was a slight pause. 

“We’ll be there in a moment.” She replied. Ava needed to meditate again. 

She felt she that she was going to do a lot of that in the future. 

** ——— **

Amara, FL4K, Zane & Moze were standing in the bridge. 

“Lass, what seems to be the problem?” Zane started. 

Ava coughed.

“We have uh... a visitor on Sanctuary.” Ava tried to delicately explain. 

The Vault Hunters gave each other confused looks between each other. 

“That’s it?” Amara was confused. By the way Ava sounded, it seemed urgent. “Ava, we thought something dangerous was going on.” 

“This visitor must be ‘serious business’ if you decided to call us here.” FL4K wisely interjected. 

Ava’s face became gravely serious. She pressed a button on the console. The digital screen popped up and showed a dozing Troy Calypso in the med-bay. 

Ava suppressed a manic chuckle their gobsmacked expressions. They had almost reacted the same way she had when she saw him. 

“Uh, Ava...” Moze uneasily commented. “That doesn’t happen to be  _Troy Calypso_ sleeping in Tannis’ lab, is it?” 

Ava shot them a wry grin. 

“He’s drugged, actually.” 

Moze sent a rapid nod in Amara and Zane’s direction and they nodded back. 

“Wait—“ Ava started to protest. 

“Stay here, Ava.” Moze ordered. Ava bristled under her brusque command. 

“It seems we have a large rat problem on Sanc-3.” Amara broke out in a grin, she cracked her knuckles. 

They took out their weapons rapidly stormed to the bridge’s exit. 

“STOP!” Ava hollered. 

Ava threw put her arm, phaselocking the door to prevent the Vault Hunters from leaving. They turned and looked back at her in surprise. 

“Lass, bloody Troy Calypso is on the ship!” Zane pointed out.

Ava took a deep breath. 

“Yeah. He is. He’s our visitor.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? This new development is proving to be.... disturbing.” FL4K commented. The bot somehow managed to convey distress through their tone. 

She calmly explained the entire situation to the Vault Hunters. She went from the beginning to the end. By the time she was done, she felt as though she was losing her voice. To their credit, they hadn’t stormed off to try to kill him afterwards. 

“Ava, are you sure? This seems dangerous.” Amara asked, her tone slightly chiding. 

Ava tried not to let Amara’s “adult tone” bother her. 

“I agree. Troy’s the enemy. I can’t imagine why he’d suddenly want to change sides.” Moze piped up in agreement.

Ava still didn’t know Calypso’s motive. The report said that he showed remorse, but it didn’t go into it. 

“Rhys made a compelling argument.” Ava shrugged. She had purposefully withheld information about the report. She wasn’t sure how much she was willing to divulge. 

Ava’s Commander persona was firmly in place. 

“...Believe me, I still want to kill him. But, having him around could be useful. A former cult leader could help us fight the COV.”

She turned to the Vault Hunters, a stern look in her eyes. She had long perfected “the stare” as she coined it. Her older subordinates knew that when she had the stare she meant serious business. 

“All I ask is that you keep an eye on him. You don’t even need to make nice.” She firmly commanded. 

“And don’t go try pickin’ a fight. There’s enough fighting out there already.” She stressed. 

His presence was on Sanctuary was bound to cause some friction. Ava didn’t know how to announce Calypso’s presence to the rest of the Raiders. 

“Well, that settles it!” Zane hooted. “Troy Calypso on Sanctuary... About bloody timesumthin’ interesting happened!” 

Amara glared at Zane and jabbed his the side of his ribs with her elbow. 

“What? It’s the truth!” Zane shrugged. 

“Well, it’s going to get a lot more interesting.” Ava interrupted. 

“We finally found another Vault.” 

**———**

Troy hadn’t slept decently in a long while. He didn’t want to sleep. He  despised it.

He had nightmares. They came in hard and fast. 

He had no control. 

This time it was ocean Eridium husks as far as the eye could see. He could smell the sharp, metallic tang of blood and ancient, crumbling ruins. The ocean was a thick miasma, a quicksand of decay that clung to him as it slowly pulled him under. 

“No...” 

It had already been up to his waist, and he was quickly sinking. He was being pulled in towards the abyss. He could feel hands dragging him under. He kicked and struggled and screamed, though he knew no one would save him. Two faces emerged from the sludge, their eyes glowing a sickly, decaying purple. 

“No!” He screamed. He railed against them, but despite their frail forms, they were heavy. 

It was his mother. And the blue haired Siren. The husk of the former Siren dug her fingertips into his collarbones, while his mother threw her crumbling limbs around his neck. 

_“No escape.”_ They softly whispered in his ears. 

Troy desperately wrenched his eyes upwards towards the darkened sky. He opened his mouth, only to let out a silent scream as he got pulled under the ocean’s crushing current. 

He woke with a jolt. Or, at least, he tried to. The drugs in his system were still fucking with his ability to move. He struggled as he came to. 

“Ahh, you’re finally awake!” A voice cheerfully commented. 

At first, he couldn’t recognize whom that blithe voice belonged to.

“—wha... oww...” He garbled. He blearily looked around. The bright fluorescent lights from overhead threw everything into sharp focus. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I did help myself to some of your bone marrow samples while you were unconscious!” She chuckled. 

Troy suddenly remembered where he was. The science lady had brought him here for “samples.”

“Ngh...” He grunted. 

The drugged out haze began to pass and he slowly regained more feeling in his limbs. Now that she mentioned it, he felt a massive stinging pain right above his left ass cheek, below his fucking knee caps, and a pervasively itchy feeling in his spine. 

Yep. Getting almost crushed to death, getting heavily drugged without his consent. 

Today was turning out just a _shitty, fucking goddamn day. _

He couldn’t help but feel just a little pissed. And perhaps slightly violated. 

“You... you fuckin’—“ He sluggishly growled, clenching his fist hard over the padded arm of the chair. 

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Tannis had a syringe at the ready, eyes glittering with amusement. She looked ready to stick him if he acted up again. 

By some miracle, he had enough sense to not finish his sentence. He barely managed to tamp down his rage,mainly out of fear of reprisal. Troy wasn’t eager to get whammed with drugs again. He unclenched his hand.

“...Nevermind.” The science lady chuckled. 

“Ah... Since you’re awake, the Commander needs you at the bridge.”

Troy waited a good minute before he stood up again. He slowly got up from the chair, trying to ignore burning, achy sensation in his knee caps. 

“You got somethin’ for knee pain, doc?” He asked, bending to rub his knees. 

Tannis rolled her eyes. 

“Do I look like some sort of lowly hospice nurse? You’ll be fine. Now  shoo.” She dismissively replied. She turned back to her desk, looking through a microscope. 

He shrugged. It was worth a shot. He exited the med-bay and went out to the bridge. 

It was just then that he ran into some familiar faces. 

It was the Vault Hunters. 

_Awkward. _

Troy tensed, readying himself for another fight. The odds weren’t in his favor, lately. They looked at him with varying levels of hostility. But they didn’t attack him. That was surprising. 

“It’s fine. Let him through.” A voice sounded. 

Though the Vault Hunters glared at him, they parted to let Troy through, everyone but the soldier girl left. 

Troy quickly deduced that she was the new Commander of the Crimson Raiders. 

“Commander Ava.” Troy tried. Ava’s eyes tightened imperceptibly. 

“Commander is fine.” She replied shortly. Her tone was icy.

There was a thick note of tension in the air. Moze felt slightly uncomfortable as she witnessed the two Sirens stare each other down. However, Troy wasn’t stupid; he decided the best course of action was to affect a deferential stance. He clearly wasn’t the ruler anymore. Being the “God-King” would only get him killed. 

He felt relief that he wasn’t gunned down. Sanctuary was a great deal more civilized than he thought. It was better than dealing with babbling Psychos all day. 

“Hey, uh... Thanks for giving me a chance.” Troy blurted out. He ran his fingers over his thick hair, a habit he often done when he was nervous. 

The Commander’s face was scarily neutral. But he could see the burning hostility stewing in those stormy gray eyes. 

“Don’t make me regret my choice.” Ava coldly told him, not bothering to acknowledge his gratefulness. 

“So, uh... Whaddya need me to do?” 

Ava’s face was still impassive. Fucking impressive for a kid. 

“Nothing yet. We have a spare room for prepared for you. Moze’ll lead you there.” 

Before Troy could thank her again, she merely stalked off. 

“Gotta change the up the plan...” She mumbled. 

_Plan? _

He looked at the soldier girl. She didn’t reply. 

“Follow me.” The former Vladof soldier ordered. She jerked her head to the side, indicating the direction to walk. 

He trailed behind her. He was already receiving stares from more crew members of the Raiders. He could already hear the whispers. Moze didn’t in engage in conversation, nor does Troy encourage it. She doesn’t seem the type to do small talk. 

After what seemed like an agonizingly long walk through the ship they reached what Troy assumed was the living quarters. 

“Over here.” She gestured at him, then pointed to the room. 

Moze walked over to the one of the doors and slammed the button to reveal the room’s interior.  Troy had to crouch down slightly to peer inside of the room. It was as disappointing as he thought it was.

Were they _fucking serious?_ He couldn’t even fit on the bunk! He forced himself to shut the fuck up real quick. Otherwise, they were probably going to jam him into a room with that Claptrap unit. 

He turned to look at the woman. 

“Thanks for... showing me this room.” He slowly forced out, through gritted teeth. 

Moze made no comment about his forced sincerity. Instead, she smacked and her gum and blew an obnoxiously large bubble in his face before popping it. 

“You’re welcome.” She replied drily. She left and shut the door, leaving him alone in the room. 

Troy looked around the place, taking stock of what was there. It was bare bones basic; some shelving units, a counter table, an analog screen. There was some real “Spartan kit-bashed space aesthetic” going on. It was a pathetic far cry from the luxury he had lived in when he was a cult leader, but it was sure as shit better than that the box he was shoved in on Promethea. He grabbed the mattress and threw it on the floor with little care. 

Sleeping space acquired. 

“Home sweet home.” He sarcastically quipped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya’ll are hungry for more. This story’s gonna be huge. I’ve got drafts for days. The amount of support I’ve gotten from this is astounding. It makes me happy that some people are interested in this ship. 
> 
> Should I make a tumblr or something? I’ve drawn some art of how Troy and Ava looked in my head. -embarrassed noises- 
> 
> Thanks for your continued support. Don’t forget to like, follow, and stay bloodthirsty, lovely bandit orphans!


	10. Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now

** Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths **

_ In my life _

_ Why do I give valuable time _

_ To people who don't care if I live or die? _

* * *

** Years Ago **

Tyreen looked over to brother. 

A few weeks after escaping Nekrotafeyo, Troy had been laughing joyously with Tyreen. They finally did it. They had escaped their cage. 

His face was awash with various emotions. He looked guilty about leaving Dad behind, anxious at the prospect of freedom, but most importantly, he was overjoyed. Tyreen had never seen her brother so happy. He looked in awe that they had managed to escape. 

Tyreen had felt slightly bad about deceiving her brother, but their old man was a selfish bastard. 

Troy had managed to jury rig the old ECHO they snatched from Dad, using some jank navigation app to travel to Pandora. Typhon DeLeon’s home planet— _the place were legends were born_, their dad proudly boasted. It was the first planet they were going to go to start their grand adventure. Tyreen had a plan in her head. 

By the time they were done, the entire universe would know their names. 

After feeling the exhilaration of freedom, it had been nothing short of  terrifying for Tyreen. By the time the third week had passed, it was a slow descent downhill. 

Troy’s face, flushed with joy and excitement, had slowly became more downcast. By the first week, he looked more and more apprehensive. As more time passed, then he had become weakly and downtrodden. 

Now, Troy looked miserable. He’d always been sick due to his Siren genes, but there were always ways to keep his various ailments at bay. The first and foremost line of defense was Tyreen’s leeching powers. 

In space, the issue was that there had been nothing to leech. There was nothing to sustain Troy. They had been short sighted when it came to their true source of food. There were no planets near Nekrotafeyo, no safe place to harbor so that Tyreen and Troy could feed.

Tyreen had been extra sure to top off before they had packed their shit and left that miserable dustball of a planet. She had been careful to conserve her energy. Troy said that with their predicted trajectory, they could make it to Pandora in a month. 

It had already been a month and a half. They had been flying in circles for the first two weeks, as the residual energy from Nekrotafeyo had scrambled their navigations and electronics of their ship. 

Tyreen was like a battery that carefully metered her output. She had been careful, but both of them were starting to burn out. The consequences for Troy were much, much worse. It was as their mother said, Troy was not designed to be a Siren.

Troy was _dying. _

Their stash of medical supplies were running out, fuel and food, too. 

The victorious fire that burned fiercely inside of the twins had died down to a cold flame of fear. 

And Tyreen... she couldn’t do anything about it. While it wasn’t said out loud, they were both thinking the same thing.

Troy never complained about his situation, preferring to suffer in silent stride. He never voiced his fear that he would die; at least, he never dared to voice them out loud. Her younger twin had always been the laconic sort. It was more in his actions; Troy had always moved with purpose. While Tyreen often liked to idle around, Troy had taken it upon himself to be the more active sibling. Ironic, given their personalities. 

Now Tyreen had to do twice the workload. Troy had done a magnificent job fixing up the ship on Nekrotafeyo, given the small resources they had in hand. If Troy could somehow suffer less, she would do it for him. 

While she didn’t need him, he needed her. She was his lifeline in both the literal and metaphorical sense. He was the other half of her, the better half, if she were honest. Troy was more intelligent, resourceful,  kind— he was her anchor. Tyreen loved her brother. The elder twin sister would do anything to make sure he was safe. 

To say that the teenager had been looking rough was an understatement. The top part of his seat was reclined backwards so that he could rest, a threadbare blanket covering his lanky frame. It was stupid, she thought; Troy could have slept on the bunk, but he insisted that he was still the co-pilot even with his... unique condition. Tyreen didn’t have the heart to fight him on that. 

Troy was covered in a fine film of sweat. His skin had taken on a waxy, deathly pallor that was evident on his tanned complexion. With every day that passed, his condition only worsened. Even when they were on Nekrotafeyo, he hadn’t looked this sick before. Troy’s eyelids were periodically flitting open, trying his damndest to fight off the urge to sleep. Tyreen was afraid that if he did nod off, it was going to be his last. 

“You okay, bro?” She asked softly. Tyreen squeezed his hand, hoping that the gesture brought him some sort of comfort. 

Troy didn’t answer right away... Or rather, it was more like he couldn’t. He was conserving energy and he couldn’t even be bothered to incline his head. However, he weakly returned the squeeze with one of his own. He mumbled something incoherent, but Tyreen didn’t press him to repeat it. 

His situation was grim, and it was wrecking Tyreen from the inside out. However, she couldn’t lose face in front of Troy. She didn’t want him to know that this was bothering her. But with each passing day, the mask she wore was showing more cracks. Watching her brother wither away to nothing was  killing her too. 

Tyreen was the big sister. She was supposed to look out for her brother. That was always their dynamic; it was natural as the waning and waxing of the moon and the billions of stars in the night sky. She was supposed to help Troy, but now... now it felt like she had _failed_ him.

For all of their months of careful planning, for all the sleepless nights stealing ship parts underneath Dad’s nose, of their dreams of exploring the stars and beyond, their hard earned efforts were going to end in vain.

At least for one of them. 

They couldn’t be the famous _DeLeon Twins_ if she were the only one alive. Tyreen wanted to scream. She wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. But it wouldn’t do any good out here, in the empty vastness of space. She feared it would only stress him out further. 

“Ty...” Troy weakly called out.

He held out his hand, trying to reach out for her. Even such a small, insignificant gesture seemed too large of an effort for her brother. 

“Troy?” 

Tyreen flipped a switch on the console to “autopilot” and immediately turned to her brother. He was slowly moving his lips. She had to lean in close to hear his low, raspy voice. 

“What is it?” She gripped his hand hard. 

Troy broke out into a coughing fit that caused his body to shake. Worried, Tyreen rubbed at his back to calm him until it died down. 

“D-Don’t think... I’m gonna—“  He almost said. Tyreen’s eyes misted over, stinging with unshed tears. She put a finger over his loose, chapped lips to quiet him. 

“Don’t you  _dare_ finish that sentence!” Tyreen forced down her bitter tears. 

_Be strong!_ She fiercely told herself. She swallowed down a fearful lump in her throat, where it settled uncomfortably in her chest. 

She _had_ to be strong for Troy. _Her better half._ The cracks in her mask were getting larger.

“You’re gonna make it! Y-You’re a fighter! You’re —“ She choked back a sob. It only got worse.

But the strong mask she wore crumbled away and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It started as a small hiccup, but started to grow in intensity. Whatever held her together on the inside just  _broke_ and she couldn’t stop the torrent of sobs and ugly tears.

A few painful, minutes had passed and she felt ashamed. Troy was suffering, not her. And yet he gently smiled, pale blue eyes nothing but kind. 

“Sorry...”  Troy weakly smiled up at her. It was a soft, apologetic smile. Tyreen sobbed and wanted to hug him, to stroke his hair and tell him everything was going to be fine. 

“T-Troy, I can’t do this without you! I won’t!” She loudly sobbed, holding his hand against her forehead. 

“You can.” He gently insisted, trying to stroke her hair. “I-I’m just a  _load...”_ Tyreen looked appalled. Troy had done so much more than he thought. 

“No, Troy, you’re not!”

“A-am too. You’re stronger—” Another painful coughing fit claimed him, causing him to curl up on the seat. Troy wrenched his hand out of her grasp, coughing violently into it. When his hand came away, there was a small film of blood. His sister looked on horror. 

Alarmed, Tyreen shot up from her seat to get some coagulant medicine. 

“Wait here—“

Just then, the ECHO on their dashboard had pinged. It had gotten her attention. She wrenched her head up to look out the window. Troy had noticed it too, as his coughing fit had lessened. 

There was a small dot just in the distance, growing ever larger by the second. But it was recognizable. She looked at the ECHO app in disbelief. She brought up the star map. Their approximate time of arrival was in minutes. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. 

“Troy? Troy! We found it!”

“What?” He wheezed. Troy struggled as tried to sit up from his seat. Tyreen gently held him there and righted it for him.

“There.” His sister pointed. She looked at Troy and broke into a wide, watery grin, filled with hope. 

“Pandora.” 

Troy weakly grinned back, mirroring an identical grin of her own. Tyreen strapped in her brother. She double checked his harness and then strapped in herself. 

“W-wow...” He shakily replied. He felt something stir within him as the planet grew larger and larger in their dash. 

And so started the legacy of the DeLeon Twins.

* * *

**Now**

Troy had been removed from the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak. It was some weird saying his dad liked to say, but oddly appropriate given his situation. 

The Crimson Raiders had gathered in the crew quarters, at the request of their Commander. Given the sheer size of the crew, it had been somewhat of an awkward fit. 

“The hell’s going on?” Grumbled one crew member.

“Dunno. Seems somethin’s happening.” Mumbled another. 

“Hey... Did you hear? One of the cult leaders of the CoV survived and is on this ship!” A female crew member whispered, looking aghast. 

It had taken a few minutes for everyone to filter in. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Troy looked to the Commander. And she looked like a near unstable ball of nerves.

Ava nervously cleared her throat. She secretly prayed that this wouldn’t end in a disaster. Moze, Amara, Zane and FL4K had been surprisingly non-combative when she told them about Calypso. While they had their doubts, but they accepted it and moved on. Now it was the rest of crew she had to worry about. The Raiders as a whole were much larger in number. There were a lot of unknown elements that she had no control over. 

At the end if the day, she had to tell them anyways. She was quick to pick up on the rumors and had to swiftly address them. She hoped that it turned out for the best. Maybe? 

“As some of you know, Troy Calypso is on Sanctuary.” The Commander calmly stated. She pointed to the tall man to the left, slightly behind her, like he was some sort of cursed shadow.

“Before you ask, he’s here to help us out. We all know that the COV’s gotten worse. Maliwan too.”

An angry ripple of murmuring could be heard in the crowd. Crew members murmured low, uneasily looking to each other. The former cult leader felt countless of pairs of eyes angrily focus on him. Troy felt his skin crawl, knowing that he was in the middle of a potentially angry lynch mob. And the Commander had dragged him out to the mess hall to announce his presence.

_Cool. _

“There’s going to be  no fighting on this ship.” The Commander stressed. She shot a look over at Troy. 

He was leaning against wall and looked out the window, trying to affect an air of cool indifference, as if the entire exchange didn’t bother him. 

“I’m going to say this once... I’m not going to tolerate schoolyard shit like bullying. If you have a problem with him, bring it up to me and I’ll deal with it.” Her tone was stern and warning. 

“We have seventy two hours before we jump to the Eden Prime system.” 

Troy could already hear the wave of angry murmurs. He could already feel the collective outrage simmering amongst the crowd of angry onlookers. 

“—Is she fuckin’ serious—“

“—Unbelievable!”

“—The COV killed my—“

Ava’s voice rang loud and clear over the dissenting crowd. 

“You’re dismissed. Get back to your posts.” Ava tersely commanded, ignoring their muted protests. The crowd quickly dispersed, a distrustful glare shot at Troy over their retreating backs. 

Troy let out another breath he didn’t know he was holding. Even when the crowd dispersed, he was still tense, waiting for any stragglers to attack him. This was going to be a shitty seventy two hours. Not even hours onboard Sanctuary and already he’s treated as a  _persona non grata._

Troy Calypso’s reception onboard Sanctuary-III had been less than welcoming. And by “less than welcoming” there wasn’t a single soul on the ship who didn’t straight up despise him. 

He was hardly an idiot. He knew his frosty welcome had stirred up some more tension. There was a whole ship of people he was certain that were itching to empty a bullet in between his rat-bastard eyes. Troy confined himself to his room for this reason, being rightly paranoid of his new “acquaintances.” 

The Commander is the queen bee of this outfit and despite her youth, she seemed scarily competent. Troy doesn’t envy her position, though. Being a commander sounds like a stressful time. 

In their brief encounter on Promethea, Troy remembered her being so short and gawky, so like a typical teenager. There’s still an air of inexperience and insecurity, but she seems more focused. The girl...  _woman_ , he corrected himself, seems to carry herself in a different manner. Despite her height, she naturally squares her shoulders and looks up. The Commander steps with confidence. Her Siren arm often cocked akimbo, with the other lightly swinging with her walk. She doesn’t swagger; Troy thinks there’s probably a stick up her ass that helps with her intensive gait. 

He wanted to sneer at the Commander’s behavior. But to be honest, hadn’t he acted like that? 

The best metaphor that Troy can think of is that she’s a kitten with a lion’s spirit. Or a princess with the commanding presence of a queen. 

The Commander also hates his guts with the burning intensity of a thousand Pandoran suns. So, if she hates him, then by extension, the entire crew on Sanctuary does as well. 

_We’ll get along just grand. _ Troy sarcastically thought to himself. 

In the first twenty four hours, they haven’t tried anything against him... at least, not yet.Sanctuary is supposed to be the safest place in space, and yet it still feels like someone wants to stick a rusty knife in between his ribs. They wouldn’t be the first. If there’s one thing Troy learned on Pandora, it’s to never relax, even when you think you’re safe. 

The only time Troy leaves his room is to fulfill basic needs, like getting showers and meals.When he does so, it’s done with a quickness. His back is always against the wall, quickly but cautiously looking around every corner. 

He’s taken it upon himself to memorize the Raiders’ schedule so that he doesn’t have any unfortunate run-ins. He wasn’t keen on turning around to see a gun pointed at his face. People didn’t have the balls to confront him face-to-face. Luckily, looking like an overgrown freak had afforded him the luxury of scaring off most the normal Raiders. A small blessing, considering his circumstances. 

Troy supposed that he should feel grateful that they haven’t killed him outright. He was sure the Commander would have strung him up by his ankles and let every one of her soldiers take a whack. 

There was a thin veneer of civility despite the obvious friction his presence has wrought on this ship. And the tension was thick in the air. It was so palpable that the slightest disturbance could make his situation go south, fast. 

Morbid curiosity makes him wonder how long it’ll last before someone takes a shot at him. He’s taking a personal bet on the Commander or any one of her Vault cronies. He gave it a month, at most. 

The Vault Hunters avoided Troy like the plague. They make no effort to be friendly towards him, which suited him just fine. Truthfully, the thought of being “buddies” with any of his former enemies made him feel a little nauseated. 

The other time was when he left his room was when he was summoned to Tannis’ lab. The Eridian scientist hadn’t extended any overtures of friendship, though he’s not that surprised, given that she fucking drugged him. She was strictly interested in him as a lab specimen for further experimentation, nothing more. Her recent experiment hurt like a bastard . The last batch of samples she retrieved had left him feeling sickly for hours afterwards, and Tannis didn’t bother giving him drugs for the pain. Perhaps it was her own weird way of extracting revenge. 

_‘At least I’m not rotting in a damn cell.’_ Troy thought as he puked into the toilet. 

He made it a point  never to go to the bar. That was where the Vault Thiev- _Hunters_ hung out. He set foot inside approximately thirty-six hours ago. He spun on his heels and fled the moment the Vault Hunters looked up in tandem to notice him. He was sure if he went in any further inside their sacred threshold, he was going to be shitting lead. The bartender with the banging bod was probably eager to poison his drinks too.

On Promethea, he was in a cage. The only thing that kept him company were his own personal demons. Now, his cage was much larger. And it’s filled to the brim with people who were eager to see him dead. He stared up at the ceiling of his room. 

This place was just another cage that he had been relegated to. Nekrotafeyo, Pandora, Promethea... 

Sanctuary. 

If Troy still had a normal sense of humor, he’d laugh at irony of the name. Instead, he cracked a brittle grin. 

These kinds of thoughts always inevitably left him thinking back to his days in the Children of the Vault. 

Was it any different when he was a cult leader? Bandits had only respected him, or rather his  sister , out a deep-seated fear of losing their lives. These dumb, traitorous thoughts only served to make him bitter and resentful. 

So what if he didn’t have dumbshit camaraderie? 

So what if there wasn’t anyone to watch his back? 

_So what? _

Troy felt utterly alone in this. 

The only person who did care for him in some capacity was his twin sister. And Tyreen had bit the bullet long ago. He didn’t even want to begin think about her.

There was no one to talk to, no one to bond with. A part of him wondered why he was even motivated to help the Raiders. 

_You know why._ The inner voice of reason in his head told him. It was the small voice that he tried to ignore for years. The one that told him to have courage, to stand up for himself. 

The one that screamed at him in the darkness of that cell in Promethea. 

_Because you’re feeling guilty for every crime you’ve committed. Because despite the all heinous shit you’ve pulled, you only did it to please your power-hungry, possibly sociopathic sister. Who, may I remind you, tried to kill you. _

_ Because right now, you still have a chance to  change things.  _

Even if Troy was genuinely regretful of his past actions, even if he wasn’t forced to help out of obligation, it was obvious that these people wouldn’t cared if he lived or died. If he had a dollar for every individual who wanted him dead, well... he’d be buried alive. 

He tried to tamp down the feeling of crushing, lonely misery. 

Curiously enough, a small creature had shown him some kindness. It was a strange fox-lizard creature with strange markings and battered blue ears. He learned its name was Hermes by looking at the small collar around its neck. It cautiously approached him first, large red reptilian eyes staring curiously up at him from his feet. He’d given it a few affectionate pats, and it puked up some shotgun ammo on his lap before scampering away. 

Claptrap was willing to offer up an olive branch. But the sad, little robot seemed desperate for companionship from anyone. And Troy wasn’t that pathetic or desperate. _ Yet._

Approximately forty eight hours into his stay, there was a knock on his door. 

...Not that he had been counting. 

“It’s me.” He heard the Commander’s voice from other side of the door. There was another knock, but Troy decided to be a petulant little shit and pretended not to hear her. He turned a page on a book he was reading, but he was more curious on the goings-on outside. He heard an aggravated sigh. 

“I’m coming in.” She announced, barging into his room anyways. She was rude and didn’t respect personal space. So, she was like Tyreen in a way. 

Troy stood up from his desk. He carefully folded the page and turned to look at her. 

“Commander.” He addressed, with an incline of his head. 

The Commander stood a careful distance away from him. She looked as though she wanted to be doing anything else rather than interacting with him. He wondered why she even made the effort, seeing as she hated him. 

“What do you know about Eden-3?” Her tone was low and business-like, something he suspected she subconsciously took on when she was the Commander. Obviously, she wasn’t here for friendly, idle chatter. 

Troy leaned against the desk, warily regarding her presence. 

“Depends in what you want to know.” He carefully responded.

The Siren Commander looked at him, face tight.

“I was talking about the bandit clans on Eden-3.” She impatiently clarified. Troy gave her a crooked grin, then it slid into a frown. It took him couple of seconds before he responded. 

“It’s got mountains, thick-ass rainforests, and bandit druggies.” 

“That’s all?” She asked, looking unimpressed. 

“I don’t remember much of anything else.” He admitted, scratching at the implant at the back of his head. 

The Commander slightly gaped at him in return. Not a good look for someone who was supposed to be a leader.  Actually, looking at her now, she didn’t look too good. She looked a little ill. Troy didn’t comment. 

“What? I thought you knew everything about your... dedicated ECHONet following.” She phrased delicately. 

Troy made an annoyed sound and shrugged again, he leaned against the desk and examined a greasy spot on the ceiling. 

“You think I’d remember billions of members? I kept them complied on an old ECHO I had before, well...  you know.” He thoughtfully narrowed his eyes. 

That had gotten the Commander’s attention. 

“An old ECHO?” She asked with interest. “Older than the V1.10202009?” 

Troy looked at her in surprise. It was rare that anyone even knew stuff like that, much less an obscure serial number of ECHO. 

“Yeah. Much older.” He confirmed. 

She had a decisive nod. 

“Wait here.” She sternly told him. Troy shot her a wry grin. Wasn’t like he was going anywhere else. She quickly left his room. A few short minutes later, she returned with something in her hands. Troy recognized it immediately. 

“That’s—“

“Here.” 

Ava held it out to him, the device laying flat out out her palm. She looked careful not to touch him. She didn’t want a repeat what happened earlier when he unexpectedly arrived on Sanctuary. Troy thought the same thing as he carefully took it back. 

“I found it back on Pandora after Tyreen tried to...  _You know.”_ She dropped her gaze and looked at the metal grated floor. 

He couldn’t help but stare at her. Why the commander took it, he had no idea, but it was strangely thoughtful of her nonetheless. The eye contact only seemed to make her anxious, so he dropped his gaze. He looked at his dad’s ECHO, running his thumb over the familiar pits and dings it had received over the years. Then gave her a questioning look. 

“I didn’t mess with it. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

The Commander’s gaze was suspiciously shifty and he knew she lied. However, he didn’t call her out on it. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled. The Commander didn’t reply. 

If there was any kind of tension, it was definitely between these two. It was drawn so taut it felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Just give me details on the bandit clans on Eden-3. I need to know what we’re dealing with before we make landfall.” She looked a little pale as she said it.

“Sure.” Troy nodded at her, then he hesitated. Maybe he was overstepping a line, but he asked anyways. 

“Commander, you good, by the way? You look... sweaty.” 

The Commander blinked. She looked genuinely surprised that he commented about her wellbeing. 

“It’s just a bug.” She insisted. “I’ll expect you at the bridge in a few hours.” 

The Commander gave him a tight nod and left. Troy sat down and set the ECHO on the table. He turned it on and bypassed the triple layered encryption with ease. The display popped up and he let out an impressed whistle. Everything was still intact. 

“Welp... Let’s see what we got here.”

**———**

Another twenty hours passed. With every hour that passed, the Crimson Raider crew had started to become restless. The jump to Eden-3 was in mere hours. Troy had barely slept in that time. 

In that time, Troy had gathered all the information that he could on the bandit clans on Eden-3, hoping it was enough. He had managed to link is old ECHO to the ship’s systems. It crackled an announcement. 

“Vault Hunters to the bridge~” Claptrap obnoxiously sang over his ECHO. 

“And that includes you too, Troy.”

What, so he was a Vault Hunter now? He scoffed. He exited his room and took another cautious look around. This place felt so damn chaotic and claustrophobic. 

Unsurprisingly, he was the last person to arrive. While he quickly memorized the layout, he had been hesitant to enter. Eventually, he decided to suck it up and enter. The commander was bent over the console, showing the lay out of a rainforest on a three dimensional map. 

“—There have been reports from the Jakobs Corporation that a huge COV encampment is on the edges of Eden-3, surrounding the Vault. We don’t know how they found it but—“ The commander was interrupted by his sudden arrival, looking up from the hyperspace terminal to notice his entrance. She quirked an eyebrow at the man’s appearance. Her expression was still guarded and neutral. 

“Nice to see you finally show up, Calypso.” Ava calmly looked at her late arriving guest.

All the Vault Hunters turned to look at him. There’s the hulking robot with the vicious array of pets, the tough looking woman soldier, an old guy that he recalled having a funny accent, and the buff Siren chick. Troy is especially weary of her. He doesn’t like how she looked at him. 

“Uh...’sup?” He greeted. The Amara’s glare became slightly more hostile. Ava rolled her eyes.

“As I was saying—” 

Troy was quickly brought up to speed on the current affairs. So, there was a huge ass encampment on Eden-3, where there was another Vault. Rhys hadn’t been lying when the bandits were more proactive. There was a unsettling feeling in his gut. Somehow the bandits had found a Vault all on their own. 

“I’ll take lead on Omega.” Amara volunteered. Troy looked at the buff Siren, confused. 

_Omega what?_

“Then we’ll need someone for the rear on the eastern front.” Zane commented. Troy looked wildly between the Vault Hunters. 

_What? _

There was some serious team synergy shit that was going on and he was already feeling lost. 

“Ava, I’ll the take the rear position on the west.” FL4K volunteered. 

“Good. Calypso, you’ll take up rear guard with FL4K.” The Commander stated, not looking up from her plans. 

Troy looked to the hunter. FL4K’s single eye immediately narrowed. He misconstrued the Siren Commander’s statement.He mistakenly thought he was going to paired with FL4K. 

“Yo, is it a good idea to leave me with a murder bot?” He asked. 

“What?” She asked, confused. She looked up from the terminal then. 

“Wouldn’t I be better at the front, helping you find the Vault?” 

The other Vault Hunters looked at Troy in confusion. 

“Wait—“ 

“This bot seems the type to stab people in the back. Not an insult, just stating.” He interrupted, thrusting a thumb over shoulder at the stolid bot. 

He was already challenging Ava with a glare. 

The other Vault Hunters looked to Ava. Amara was especially interested how she’d handle it. Ava coolly returned his glare with one of her own. Ava let out an impatient sigh. 

“When I said that you take the rear, I meant that you’re going to provide cover fire from a distance on a separate team.” She explained. The commander saw the gears turn in his head as his face lit up in comprehension. 

_About time,_ she thought irritably. 

“Besides, what good are you on the front lines if you don’t have an arm?” She challenged, gesturing to the limp coat sleeve. 

“I, ah, well... shit.” Troy discreetly rubbed at his shoulder. The studded black padding of his bracing had remained, after he lost the fight on Pandora. For the millionth time, he wished he wasn’t some handicapped load. 

And just like that, he started to annoy the Commander. 

Confrontational indeed. 

“If you’re so worried about being stabbed in the back, then I suggest you keep looking over your shoulder more often.” She coldly commented, subtly referring to his time on Sanctuary. 

_Tough shit. _

Troy’s face tightened into a scowl. He stared down the commander, but when it was clear she wasn’t cowed by his glare, he made a rude noise with his teeth. 

“Tch.” 

“Your tone appears to indicate distress.” FL4K commented. “Do tell, why does _‘the rear’_ make you nervous?” They inquired with a slight incline of their head. 

Troy groaned. “I just don’t do rear anything.” He gave the bot an aggrieved look. 

Zane gave him a skeptical glance.

“You sure, boyo?” 

Troy shot him a wink. “Very.” 

Ava’s eyebrow ticked. He always seemed to have some sort of quip or remark at the ready. 

“Are you any good with a sniper rifle?” Ava interjected. 

Troy turned Ava. He was good at sniping. It was one of the things he got quickly good at when he was on Pandora, when he realized engaging with crazed bandits was far better at a distance, especially when he first began to study them. Fucking crazy bastards and their ribcage spelunking. 

“Decent enough.” He replied. 

“Good. Then you’ll be positioned here.” Ava used both of her hands to zoom out of the section, then re-positioned the map to show an intricate top-down. The Vault ruins were firmly entrenched in a valley, facing out towards a river that looked to span a mile wide. 

“We’re going to go down towards the sides and hit them hard from the east, since it’s their weaker side.” She indicated, then pointed at Troy. 

“You’re going to take the higher ground and be our picket, while Moze and I go through the jungle.”

Troy looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Okay?” He replied slowly. He still didn’t get it. She let out a short but impatient sigh. 

“Lookout.” She clarified.

Oh. 

“We’ll take position Alpha. We’re going to pull a flanking maneuver, _coupe de main—_“ 

“Whoa, what the fuck does any of that mean?” Troy rudely interrupted.

The smaller Siren gave him her most unimpressed glare.

“We’ll be going in two groups of three. One group will hit the COV from the east and the second from the west.” The Commander’s voice was tinged with impatience as she slowly explained it to him, as if he were a child. 

“Zane, Amara and FL4K is the overwatch crew. They’ll take secondary positions from the west. They’ll come in and clean out the camp once we reach the Vault.”

“You’re coming with me and Moze. Hence, you’ll be taking up the rear.” 

Troy couldn’t help but chuckle and crack a grin. 

“Heh. _Rear.”_ He snickered. 

He knew it would piss her off, but he just couldn’t help it. He saw the flare of irritation cross her face. He knew he was pushing his luck. 

“As the sniper.” She clarified. 

“Hmm... I do love a threesome.” He commented with a salacious wink. Ava knew he was trying to get under her skin, but it was still creepy nonetheless. 

Moze scoffed at him. 

“I’m not into dudes.” She commented dryly. Troy looked her up and down. 

“You know, I can change your mind.” He drawled, waggling his eyebrows. 

Amara made a threatening noise, flexing her arms. Troy looked perplexed, looking between both women. Then a sly grin of understanding crept over his face. 

_“Heh.” _

Ava facepalmed. This was the monster she had been afraid of?

“Anyways—“ She sharply continued on, before Troy sidetracked this whole point of this meeting. She let out a huff and wiped the sweat off of her brow. 

“Ava, are you all right?” Amara lightly asked. Ava nodded, waving off her concern.

“You do have intel on the bandits, right?” She turned to Troy. 

Troy’s smirking face turned serious. 

“Yeah.” 

He pulled a wire from the ECHO clipped to his belt and plugged it into the Hyperspace Terminal. 

“There’s some shit you need to know about them.” 

** ——— **

After the meeting had been concluded, Sanctuary made the jump to Eden-3. The Vault Hunters gathered in the cargo bay where the drop pod was located. The two female Sirens were the last to reach the bay. 

“Ava...” Amara pulled the young Siren aside, a concerned look on her face. Sometimes, she took on the big sister role too well. Amara chanced a look at Troy, making sure that he wasn’t listening in. He was uncomfortably eyeing the drop pod. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Ava tried to brace herself for the stern lecture from Amara. 

“Are you sure it’s wise to bring him in for this mission?” Amara couldn’t help but voice her doubt. Ava wanted to let out an exasperated sigh, but successfully reigned it in. 

“If he’s actually serious about helping us, then so be it.” She said in a low tone. 

“And if he does turn?” Her dark eyes serious. 

“Then I’ll kill him myself.” She said, her face set in grim determination, gray eyes steely. Amara had felt a small tinge of sadness for her Siren sister-in-arms. Someone so young shouldn’t have been exposed to such violence. The universe had taken something all from them. 

Amara gave her a grave nod in understanding. 

“Then I trust your judgment.” She gave Ava’s shoulder a squeeze. She gave Amara a grateful nod in return. 

Zane jogged towards the walkway, eager to be the first one to enter. 

“See you planetside, lass!” Zane gamely yelled. 

Zane, Amara, and FL4K entered the drop pod first. It blasted away from the cargo bay and the loud sound made still made her jumpy. 

Troy stared at the drop pod as it exited the cargo bay. The sudden force from mechanical release knocked him slightly off-balance. 

“You’re up next, string bean!” Ellie called out. 

The drop pod digistructed into the cargo bay again and Ava and Moze walked towards it. 

“C’mon.” The commander commented, jerking her head towards the pod. 

“Uhh... Is this safe?” He asked, rapping his knuckles against thedrop pod’s door.

“Safe as it can be.” Moze wryly replied. She slammed her fist against the paneling to shift it back into place. Troy eyed it doubtfully. The stabilizing fin looked slightly off, but maybe that was just his imagination.

_Hopefully. _

He tried not to imagine a small metal capsule breaking up on atmospheric reentry where he burnt into a crisp, but curse his _stupid, imaginative overthinking brain. _

“Heh. Eh, I _might_ be a little too tall. For this.” He gave a nervous little laugh.

Judging by her look, Ava obviously wasn’t moved, Troy’s contrite smile faded.

“After you.” Troy gestured towards the drop pod, letting her go first. The commander only rolled her eyes and quickly strapped herself in, with Moze following.

Though he fumbled, Troy managed to strap himself into the five point harness. He felt the pneumatic safety harness clamp down hard on his shoulders. He gripped the side of the harness so hard it made his knuckles white. This was more nerve wracking then when he first made planetfall on Pandora. 

From the tiny window, he could see the warning klaxon turn on. 

“Gonna make the drop in 3-“

He heard the cargo doors hiss open and he felt his stomach plummet in response.

“2!” 

_Oh shitting fuck balls-_

“1!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troy just can’t get a break, can he? 
> 
> And I humanized Ty like wat
> 
> Criticism is always highly appreciated! You guys are my beacons in the night.
> 
> As always, don’t forget to like, follow and guard your rear. Heh


	11. Bad Moon Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This is where it gets violent, kiddos. 
> 
> But, I mean. It IS a Borderlands fic, so... yeah.

**Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival**

_I hear hurricanes a-blowing_

_I know the end is coming soon_

_I fear rivers over flowing_

_I hear the voice of rage and ruin_

_Don't go 'round tonight_

_It's bound to take your life_

_There's a bad moon on the rise_

* * *

It had felt terrifyingly long, yet actual planetfall had only taken a minute. 

Troy felt the drop. It wasn’t so much a drop than it was the odd feeling of temporary weightlessness, followed by his body being slammed upwards into the harness. His head rattled hard against the harness as the drop pod shook and rattled, an unwilling passenger in the universe’s most extreme vertical roller coaster drop. He didn’t know if he let out an scream as the roar of dramatic atmospheric entry drowned out any other sound. 

It felt as though his body hit terminal velocity first, then his entire skeleton, followed by his spinal column implant. The drop pod had smashed into a rainforest clearing, and the worst part was blissfully over. The drop pod had smashed into the ground at an somewhat awkward angle.

They waited a few minutes before the light inside the drop pod turned green. The pneumatic harnesses let out a mechanical clunk as they lifted from team Alpha’s soldiers. 

Troy thought he was standing up straight, but had a hard time figuring up from down. The impact from the crash gave him vertigo. He shakily emerged, or rather stumbled, from the drop pod, feeling the world right itself. He then fell on his knees onto the rainforest floor; he used his only hand to steady his unstable form. 

“Ngh...I’m alive!” He groaned. All he felt was queasy, blessed relief. 

“Ugh, h-holy shit-“ 

Troy dry heaved, then shakily rose to his feet, stance unsteady.

To her credit, the Commander only looked slightly sick. She looked more bothered by the by her apparent illness than the actual drop itself. The woman soldier looked unruffled by the experience, looking as cool as a Promethean cucumber. 

They waited for Troy’s nausea to pass, Moze watching in slight amusement as she watched this lanky pole of a man recover. Ava had checked her ECHO to ensure that they were facing the correct direction. After a minute, Moze and Ava nodded to each other. 

“...Let’s go.” Ava calmly stated. 

And thus they set off towards the Eden-3 Vault. 

Eden-3 was... He was struggling to find the words to describe it. It was a sibling planet to Eden-6, similar weather patterns, but with a shitton more rainforests.

Eden-6 was _“swamp-assy,”_ but this planet had a decent temperature, and the ground here was at least walkable. Thick trees went up impossibly tall, branches reaching out to accommodate the endless tangle of lianas. The sun was setting somewhere in the west, casting its weak rays through the trees. The mist clung low to the ground as the sun was setting. 

At least it wasn’t a total hotbox like Eden-6. The moment they made planet fall, Troy was already feeling  damp . He couldn’t find any adjectives to properly describe how gross he was feeling. Sweat accumulated on his back, his dark hair plastered against his forehead. The shirt he was wearing clung to his body like a second, disgusting skin.

It was like having a cake. A moist cake? Great. People liked moist cakes. 

A  _damp_ cake? Gross. What the actual _fuck. _What kind of mouth-breather were you to enjoy a  _ damp cake?  _

_That_ was what Eden-3 felt like.

Uncomfortable adjectives aside, this planet fucking sucked.

Troy let out a curse when he slipped on seemingly flat ground. The planet itself was unremarkable, but he hadn’t forgotten just how uncomfortably wet it was. 

Oh, well, it did have a Vault. 

The Commander moved gracefully despite her obvious illness. Moze seemed to step lightly amongst the mossy ground, hardly disturbing the vegetation. Troy had the grace of an injured skag, with about the same amount of coordination and twice the amount of noise. 

They walked the span of their journey in terse silence. The only noise that was present was the buzzing of insects, or some other unknown wildlife. W hatever was lurking in the bushes hopefully stayed there.

He hoped it wasn’t a bandit. Or _bandits._

Since they headed east, there was an endless expanse of forests and mountains to the north and a huge-ass river to the south. 

And it looked like a _long_ way down. He tried not to think of a scenario of the drop pod landing in the river.

The soldier woman and the Commander silently forged ahead. He struggled to keep pace with them, despite being several heads taller than either of them. Ironically, his time in the cell had been a huge benefit to his health. The workout routines had been helped him build up a decent amount of stamina. 

Had old Troy Calypso attempted such a feat, he probably would have passed out from exhaustion. Strictly speaking, he still wasn’t on par with the any of Vault Hunters. 

He let out another quiet curse when he slipped on another tree root. 

“Fuck.” Both women turned to glare at him and he promptly snapped his mouth shut.

“He’s definitely the _FNG.” _Moze muttered under her breath, throwing an unimpressed glance his way. Ava subtly smirked and nodded in agreement. 

The weather also fucking sucked. 

The rains were unpredictable. Sometimes, it would be a light drizzle, but then it would be torrential in a manner of minutes. He was glad that he at least had his coat on, warding him from the sudden rains. 

Did he mention everything was moist?

Argh. 

He already hated this damp, miserable planet.

———

The intel that Troy provided was a blessing.

Tyreen had the idea of spreading the holy name of the Calypsos to other planets. Back when the Calypso Twins had been “evangelizing,” Troy had the foresight to compile data on important bandit clans and key figures, as well as any definitive traits that could be used to the COV’s advantage. He hoped the data wasn’t too out of date, but bandits were not nothing if predictable. 

How ironic that he was using it now to help a former, sworn enemy. Tyreen would have been rolling in her grave if she learned her brother was helping Vault Thieves. He was content to keep let her keep spinning in it. 

Some of the clans on Eden-3 made the bandits on Pandora look soft by comparison. He explained the bandit hierarchy, something regular people failed to understand. There was actual order in the chaotic mess that the bandits had going on. 

“So, bandits always answer to strength. You’ll usually find ‘em in groups and they’ll bond together to form a clan.” 

He swiped to the next section. 

“The largest bandit clans in Eden-3 are the Grog Teeth and Rust Sucket Clans. You want fucking crazy? They’re a bunch of naked, drugged up savages. They’re an unpredictable bunch.” 

They were also one of the few bandit clans that even Tyreen didn’t want to leech. 

“So, how are they different from any other bandits? They’re always unpredictable.” Ava questioned. She wasn’t impressed. Troy gave her a crooked grin. 

“It’s one of the few planets that even the corporations don’t mess with. Any attempt from them ended in, well...” 

He clicked to a picture of a row of bleached skeletons that had been piked. Judging by the scraps of rotting cloth, they had probably been corporate soldiers or scientists. 

“...absolute failure.”

Zane let out an impressed whistle. The corporate hitman always took a liking to brutality, but this was taking it to an elevated form. 

“Shite!” 

“The reason is ‘cuz they’re on what they like to call rainforest juice.” 

“It’s a potent cocktail of different shrooms that’ll send you on a rage trip so bad you’ll see beyond the six galaxies. They do not fuck around.”

“And what does it do?”

“It makes ‘em resistant to pain. If you’re gonna fight them, put a bullet in between their eyes. Or kneecap ‘em. Just take them down.” 

After the meeting had been concluded, Troy had been called down to Marcus Munitions near the crew quarters. Marcus Kincaid greeted him with an opportunistic, sly grin. 

“Troy Calypso! How nice to see you again!” 

Ava looked between the two of them with surprise. 

“Again?” 

“We’ve had some business dealings in the past...” Marcus absently waved his hand. 

“What kind of business?” 

Though, Ava wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. He could be as shady as any of the corporations and just as cutthroat. 

“The COV had a great partnership with Marcus Munitions. They bought broken, second-hand guns and I made a huge profit!”

Leave it to Marcus to profit off friend and foe alike. At least he didn’t sell them functional weapons. 

“Don’t worry, Commander, I don’t have dealings with the COV anymore. They’re too broke and stupid anyways!” He let out a hearty, braying laugh. Troy seriously doubted it.

“Anyways, we need guns for him. Sniper rifle, maybe a handgun.”

Marcus appraised his new customer. He didn’t have an arm, so he had the perfect weapon in mind. 

“A sniper rifle you say? Well, do I have a gun for you.” He grinned, golden teeth gleaming in the harsh fluorescent light.

He pulled out a sniper rifle from underneath the counter and handed it to Troy. The male Siren took it, shooting the salesman a questioning look. 

“I don’t have any money.” Troy admitted, looking at the weapon. 

“Consider it on the house.” Marcus grinned. 

Troy doubted it. 

———

The DAHL sniper rifle strapped across his back was getting itchy. It was semi-automatic, so thankfully he didn’t have to reload with every single shot. The bulky stock kept digging into his shoulder with every step, even with his coat on. He had eventually given up on adjusting it. 

Though his steps were slow and deliberate, he still managed to slip an occasional tree root or mossy patch of ground. He often threw out an arm he kept forgetting he didn’t have to try to steady himself, cursing to himself when he stumbled forward. 

It was getting more difficult to see where they had been going due to heavy cloud cover. It had been evening when they touch-downed on Eden-3; now the weather had mysteriously cleared and a full moon was high in the sky.

They hadn’t encountered any of the bandit clans. For that, Ava was thankful. However, she wasn’t a Commander for nothing. She knew her luck wasn’t going to last. A confrontation with the bandits was going to be inevitable. The Grog Teeth and Rust Sucket Clans weren’t mere bandits to be trifled with, if Calypso’s intel was to be believed. 

Four tense, silent hours into their trek towards the Vault, their ECHOs crackled with confirmation from Team Omega. 

Now was the time to pull off their  _coup de main. _

“Lass, Amara and I are in position.” He heard Zane. Ava nodded. 

“Good.”

“Moving to picket.” FL4K intoned. 

“Calypso. Move to the picket position.” She said in a low voice. She set a waypoint on the map display, his ECHO pinging in response.

“Got it.” He affirmed.

He shoved the night vision goggles over his eyes and slunk away into the darkness, towards the thinner line of trees. The shadows of the rainforest seemed to swallow him up. The last thing Ava saw was his foot and the tail of his coat. In the span of a few seconds, he was separated from them.

Despite disappearing out of sight, Ava closely watched his position on her ECHO display with narrowed eyes. He was steadily heading upwards on the hill towards that position. 

So, he wasn’t going anywhere. She was certain he would have bolted. 

For the hundredth time, she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Several minutes later, he finally made it to the upper cliffs. 

“I’m here.” 

“Calypso. What’s the situation top side?” 

There was brief silence from Calypso’s end. She could hear several clicks from his goggles, confirming visual. 

“This encampment’s large. Bunch of walls out on the outside, but it’s open further in. Gonna take a bit of fighting, but you can manage. Hold up...” 

More tense silence came from Calypso’s end. 

“They’re doing something. I think... they’re trying to sacrifice someone.”

Ava was hardly surprised. She wondered if it were the Jakobs agents that had gotten them the intel. They had disappeared several days afterwards and Ava couldn’t maintain contact. 

Agents had been lost all the time, a risk if one worked for the Crimson Alliance. If anything, now was the perfect time to strike. Hopefully, she could save them in time. 

“Permission to engage, Commander. My goddess, Death, she grows impatient.”

“Granted. Clean out the west. We’ll meet in 0030.” 

Ava unholstered her Maliwan SMG and turned the safety off. She ritualistically checked her weapons, making sure everything was in working order. 

“Remember not to let ‘em touch you.” Calypso warned.

Ava scoffed.

“Then you damn well better make sure to watch my back. Got it?” Ava sharply commanded. 

She heard the sound of a clip being racked and loaded over her ECHO. 

“Yeah.”

She turned to the woman soldier.

“You ready, Moze?” 

Moze spit out her gum and readied her assault rifle. Her face was set in a smirk.

“Let’s go get us a Vault.”

They stormed down the hill, towards the entrance of the settlement. There wasn’t an obvious entrance, but it didn’t matter. Moze digistructed into her Iron Bear, then aimed the her mounted rocket launcher at the wall, blasting a part away for them to enter.

———

The moment the Commander cut off contact, he felt his gut clench.

Troy unslung the sniper rifle and flipped out the bipod attachment. Whatever clumsiness Troy had while he was stomping through the jungle was gone. He loped low to the rainforest floor like a predator with purpose, scanning for an open spot where he could shoot. 

He could already the hear distant hollering of bandits, followed by the rhythmic _pop, pop, popping_ of rapid gunfire. The sound had only spurred him move faster. It’d been too long since he heard gunfire; the sound of it raised the fine hairs on his neck.

He rapidly scanned his surroundings.

_There! _

Troy’s heart quickened as he found an open cliff clearing facing towards the huge bandit settlement. He practically threw himself onto his stomach, not bothering to wipe the sweat coming off of his brows. He had about one hundred fifty meters, give or take. He wrenched out several clips from his pockets and put them within easy reach. 

He could _do_ this. 

Troy was rusty and out of practice, but now wasn’t the time to be a load. Nothing like re-learning under a little pressure! 

He had to pick up his shit real quick.

Troy switched the sights to night vision and began a quick sweep of the bandit settlement, taking stock of what was happening. 

The bandits had heard the commotion and were already moving away from the cage where the prisoners were held.

From one part of the camp, the soldier lady was in that sick ass looking mech. Bandits had managed to crawl over her mech, but she dispersed them with a quick shock. 

The other team was engaged with the western front, where more bandits had gathered. He could see the brief flashes of light erupting on the other parts of the camp, though it was partially obscured by some ramshackle buildings the bandits had erected.

Three of the psychos had surrounded the commander. Troy braced the rifle stock against his flesh shoulder. He quickly exhaled, then aimed for the psycho running towards her six. He anticipated for the psycho to get into his sights. 

The psycho reared towards her, body stretched upwards to make themselves an even larger target in his sights. Just as they raised their buzzsaw, he pulled the trigger. Gas exploded out of the chamber of the sniper rifle, nearly singing his face, yet he hardly noticed.

The bullet tore through the thick night air and found its mark. 

———

The bandit camp had initially felt like a maze, with high claustrophobic walls and narrow alleyways, chaotically thrown together to make some sort of camp. It took a few seconds for Ava to get her bearings, the damn sickness was dulling her senses. 

True to Calypso’s word, the Rust Sucket and Grog Teeth clans were a different brand of crazy. There were dozens of them and they all fought with the ferocity of a roid enraged Bullymong. 

“A Siren witch curses us with her presence!” Screamed a bandit. 

“Lick the wounds, flay until dawn!” Cried another, rusty weapon raised high in the air. 

Calypso was right, these crazy bastards weren’t fucking around.

And they were relentless. 

They kept coming and coming, even when she tried to kneecap them. Her Maliwan SMG wasn’t doing anything in these cramped quarters. She switched to a Jakobs sawed off shotgun, then blasted them with a wide choke when they got close. 

She scored a particularly vicious kill when a slugger tried to brain her with a club. She aimed just as he leapt at her, catching him fully in the front. He flew backwards in a gory spray as his went the front of his head exploded in bits of skull, red blood, and gray brain matter. 

_If it took more than one shot, then you weren’t using a Jakobs. _

They leapt over his twitching remains and ran further into the bandit settlement. The structures started to thin out as they and eventually reached a large courtyard.

There were the telltale sign of Eridian ruins. Ava saw two Eridian statues side by side at the entrance of a cave opening. Their hands stretched upwards towards the night sky.

They found their mark. 

“Ava, watch out!” Moze yelled out. 

She was separated from Moze when a Goliath came bumbling out from a shipping container, roaring with glee.

Ava felt her powers flare up, yet something felt _wrong. _She swept her hand upwards to put the Goliath in a phaselock. However, her hold on him was tenuous. The bubble shook as it lifted him like a toy, then abruptly died. 

The Goliath fell onto his head. It would have been comical, had he been trying not to kill her. The hulking man managed to amble back onto his feet. 

“Pretty Siren lady!” The Goliath bellowed, meaty hands reaching out to grab Ava.

“Dammit!” 

Moze had shot the protective bucket helmet off from the Goliath, enraging him. His overweight body morphed into the familiar wall of muscle. 

“I’LL STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR GUTS!” The Goliath roared.

Moze sprayed some bullets on him, then led him away in the Commander in her Iron Bear. 

She took on the brunt while Ava picked off the rest.

Ava puffed out a breath of relief. She took on two other bandits by shooting them point blank in the face full of buckshot. 

She failed to notice the one lurking behind her. 

“Kill the Siren wi—” 

A piercing scream rang out followed by the heavy impact of a falling body. 

Ava whipped her herself around, pointing the smoking barrel of her shotgun at nothing. She saw a screaming Psycho making heavy impact as she rolled to the ground. A significant portion of her arm was missing, exposing the white bone underneath.

Her arm was mangled, with a few scant strings of connective tissues remaining, painting the ground beneath her in a shade of dark, wet red. Whether she was screaming because she was in pain or was insane, Ava had no clue. 

From her line of vision, several more decisive gunshots followed, and more bandits fell. They lay on the ground, hardly moving. Ava cursed her carelessness, but she was surprised. Calypso was watching her back.

Despite missing most her arm the Psycho was still crawling towards Ava, babbling something nonsensical. Her arm trailed behind her as she reached towards Ava. 

“Siren Witch that causes the moon to cry, she who _hooolds_ the Key—“ She cried out.

Ava shot her in the face, then turned to deal with the other bandits. Her concentration was starting to worsen.

Two other bandits charged at her with reckless abandon. She didn’t have time to reload. Ava used her phaselocking powers and felt the sudden, unnatural flare-up of power again. She picked up one bandit and violently pitched him into other with ease. The impact had been much harder than she expected, instantaneously killing both of them.

The effort had been too much.  Ava felt her vision blur, feeling weak. Using her powers was a mistake. Was that what was making her tired? She felt suddenly exhausted. 

“Shit!” She cursed, falling to a knee, trying to fight off sudden bout of nausea. 

She didn’t notice the other bandits. 

———

Troy picked off another bandit, ending their life with decisive headshot. He didn’t have the time to bask in the afterglow. 

Bullet casings fell around him as he rained death on the enemy.

He already moved onto other bandits, picking them off with a precision that surprised even him. Apparently he wasn’t as rusty as he thought. He wasn’t one-hundred percent accurate, however. He missed a few shots here and there, burning through sniper rounds without realizing it.

He saw the Commander stumble, but she didn’t get up. Several more bandits popped out of the woodworks, closing in on her with a quickness. 

“Hell is she doing!?” 

Troy shot the bandit closest to her, then the DAHL sang with a metallic _ping_ to signify that the clip was empty. He popped it out and tossed it over his shoulder, grasping around blindly in the darkness for another clip. 

_Oh shit. _

He was out of ammo.

To his credit, he only slightly panicked. 

“Fucking... Marcus!” 

He could imagine that smug piece of shit already laughing at his misfortune. 

Without thinking, he abandoned the sniper rifle and pulled out a hand gun. Troy dropped down the cliff and tore down the hill, moving faster than he thought possible. 

He breathed in and out through his nostrils, quickly making his way through the camp. He followed the obvious trail of destruction left by the soldier woman and the Siren Commander’s wake. They had done most of the work. It wasn’t difficult to find her. 

He managed to get to the Commander in time. She was surrounded by a pack of bandits, intent on ripping her to shreds. She had her phase shield up, and Troy felt some relief. 

There were at least five of them. The odds weren’t looking good. 

“Hey!” Troy let out a sharp piercing whistle, getting their attention. They immediately noticed him. He could see the lights from their masks cast an eerie glow in the darkness. 

“Get him!” 

He managed to fire off a shot, killing a bandit before he backtracked and dove behind a makeshift barrier. He could hear bullets whizzing over his head, scattering into the darkness.

“Shit, fuck!” 

What the fuck was he thinking? He couldn’t take them on with a peashooter! His foot bumped into a bandit corpse and saw a slapdash assault rifle. 

The balance was fucking awful. There was no way he could hold this piece of shit with a single arm. He shrugged and holstered his pistol, then picked up the weapon. 

The Commander still needed his help. 

“Fuck it.”

Troy took several breaths. 

Okay, he could _do _this. He could be a badass, he could take them on!

Just as he came out of hiding, gun blazing, a giant Skag had came with a cybernetic eye had came roaring out of nowhere. It had thrown its considerable bulk onto one of the bandits, knocking him to the ground. It sank its vicious teeth into his jugular, causing the bandit to scream. 

Not far from the Skag came a giant space fist, grasping a bandit in midair. Another arm came smashing down, crushing the bandit into an unidentifiable pile of gory paste. The buff Siren lady came in, looking pleased at her handiwork. 

Then the handsome old guy came out, killing a bandit by shooting him in the back. A digital clone of himself digistructed behind him and slugged another bandit square in the jaw.

Troy watched the scene with awe. 

”Good boy, Mr. Chew!” The robotic hunter was patting the Skag’s belly. The skag in question rolled onto its back, basking in the attention it received from its master. 

Troy just stared at scene that had unfolded, blinking several times as he processed what happened. 

_Well, that was anti-climatic._

The Vault Hunters had arrived. Troy looked at the COV gun in his hand and dropped it with a shrug. He strolled to the courtyard and found the Commander, still on her knees.

The Commander seemed to have recovered from her little fainting spell. She tiredly picked herself off of the ground, dusting the dirt off of her pants.

Troy didn’t offer his hand to help her up. He knew she wasn’t going to take it. He wanted to voice his concern for her wellbeing, but he knew she would brush him off. 

“Ava, I found the prisoners. They’re alive.” Moze’s voice crackled over the ECHO.

“Check on them.” Ava pinched the bridge of her nose, waiting for the nausea to pass. It only seemed to get worse. 

Why the hell was she feeling this way? Of all the times, why now? She shook her head.

“Roger that. Over.” 

“—Amara, Zane. FL4K. Do a sweep.” 

“And what of you, Ava? Are you well?” FL4K looked at her, single eye narrowed in concern. 

“I’ll get to the Vault. Then I’ll stay there for a bit with Calypso.” She didn’t acknowledge FL4K’s concern either. She used her scarf to wipe the sweat away.

“Amara, lead the sweep and meet up with Moze.”

“Okay.” Amara nodded. She shot a glare in Troy’s direction. It was an implicit threat, warning him of the consequences that would entail if he failed his task. Troy shrugged in response, but he got the message loud and clear. 

The other Vault Hunters left them alone. 

“Well... let’s get to the Vault.” Ava grimly commented. Troy was content to let her take the lead. They found the entrance marked by the twin Eridian statues and made their way into the cave.

She touched her belt to activate the built-in light, illuminating the cave walls. Troy took the torch from his belt and followed her. 

Their trek was filled with silence. The only noise that penetrated the cave was the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cave walls. The natural lime and calcium deposits of the cave was slowly being overtaken by the dark gray, sharp, angular slabs, a telltale sign of Eridian ruins. He ran his hand among the rocks and could seen the faint blue swirls embedded in the stone.

Troy breathed in and felt a slight bout of anxiety. Even though he he was away from Nekrotafeyo, Eridians ruins always somehow smelt the same. It was the scent of ancient, crumbling decay, with the dull notes of a metallic tang. He shook his head, then turned his attention onto the Commander.

Troy could tell she was stumbling. 

“Yo... You don’t look too hot.” The male Siren commented. 

In fact, she looked worse. She was ghostly pale and was sweating up a storm rivaling this planet. 

Ava just glared at him like he was idiot. Troy scowled back. Why the fuck would she even go out in the condition that she was? Christ, she was stubborn.

“I’m fine.” Ava replied shortly. She wasn’t, actually. But she was here now, so it was pointless to make a fuss about it.

He rolled his eyes, then held his hand out to indicate the rest of the cave’s path. If she was going to keep up the tough girl act, then so be it.

_No skin offa my nose,_ his dad would say. 

“Keep leading on, then.” 

The cave had gotten deeper and more complicated. Troy kept carefully watching her. If she kept going to this rate, she was going to break her damn neck. Troy had done enough exploration of Eridian ruins with his sister in his childhood to understand that it was dangerous to just forge on ahead. 

The pair made it to a dip in the path, leading to a narrow bridge. Below the bridge was a deep crevasse that was dark. Troy grabbed a stone and tossed it into the darkness, then strained his hearing.

There was no sound of a stone hitting the bottom.

It looked deceptively easy to cross. 

Troy’s instincts were on high alert. He knew that Eridian architecture constantly shifted. Before he could warn her, she was spurred on by impatience, dead set on walking towards the bridge. 

“Commander.” He said, voice strained. Ava ignored him and moved on. 

“Hey! Wait—“

Ava misjudged her step. Part of the stone bridge had suddenly sprung up faster than she anticipated. It had caught her off balance and she felt herself falling. 

It was such a simple fucking mistake, one she could have easily avoided had she heeded Calypso’s warning. 

Her heart leapt into her throat as she felt gravity pull her down. 

Ava tried using her powers to phase-lock herself to safety, but it puttered to nothing. 

She stared up in shock, time seemingly slowing down. She didn’t bother screaming. It seemed so _pointless. _

A single thought crossed her mind. 

_I’m so sorry, Maya. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a problem with typing is that I try to pare down a chapter, it blows up on me again. =w=;;
> 
> As always, your comments and criticism is encouraged!
> 
> Don’t forget to like, follow, and... fuck it, it’s hard to make a different joke everytime.


	12. Psychotic Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gore warning!

* * *

**Psychotic Break - Jerry Cantrell **

_Feel like a psychotic break comin' on_

_Snapping two by fours_

_Punching holes in dry wall_

* * *

** Years Ago **

Nekrotafeyo was a planet seemingly suspended in time. It was a relic of a dead civilization long passed; a graveyard that served as a reminder of the Eridians’ hubris in their dangerous pursuit of knowledge. It was a crumbling relic, decaying in the cold, nigh unreachable vastness of space.

Nothing should have lived on this planet. And yet, for a planet that was bereft of life, something had flourished among its dying landscape. 

Initially, it had been a man and a woman, respectively going by the names of Typhon DeLeon and Leda Calypso. 

They made the conscious decision to stay on this crumbling relic to protect it from the corporations who wished to exploit it. The woman had fallen pregnant shortly after making planetfall, though Leda couldn’t say she was surprised. 

What was shocking however, was the state of her pregnancy. The contractions had came way earlier than expected. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in her abdomen an she knew something was _wrong._ Even using what small medical resources they had, they had managed to deliver their children. They had come into this world via an emergency cesarean, somehow conjoined at the arm. 

Hours after a harrowing delivery, and an even harder surgery still, both babies had survived. 

What had shocked the parents was the bioluminescent markings that that ran up and down the length of their left arms, marking them as Sirens. Leda had no idea that the power of transference could apply to males. The woman’s fears had only compounded, further cementing her decision to stay indefinitely on Nekrotafeyo. 

The girl was healthy, pink, and wailing. 

Her brother was smaller in size, and an alarming shade of blue. No  noise came from him, despite Leda’s efforts to rouse him. 

Typhon had made the hard choice to cut the boy from his bigger sister, lest they lose both children. Her son had survived, but not without a heavy cost. The fact that her son would not grow up without an arm had devastated Leda to no end. 

After everything, she named them Tyreen and Troy. Names that she hoped would reflect their inner strength. They were her little celestial bodies. Her children were little wonders, that throughout these short years, brought her unbridled joy. 

Tyreen was like the sun that would never burn out. She was like the center of a galaxy, pulling everything into her orbit. Troy was her mirror, possessing the quiet brilliance of the moon. They were polar opposites of each other, and yet they complimented each other in so many ways. 

Their distinct personalities had only become obvious once they became older. 

Tyreen was extroverted. She was brash and energetic. She had a tendency to act out with her heart, and had a propensity for trouble, much like Typhon did. 

Troy was more introverted. He was withdrawn and studious. He was drawn more towards books and ECHO logs, trying to learn _everything._

When he was slightly younger, Since had gotten sickly, he had refused to leave his mother’s side. Troy just loved to learn. As a result, his mother taught him all things Eridian. She was proud to call him her little Eridian expert. 

While Tyreen sometimes snoozed through some of the lessons, Troy had always paid rapt attention, soaking up the information like a sponge. His little eyes would light up as she taught him. While Leda loved both of children equally and treated them fairly, she couldn’t help but relish her time a little more with her son. 

This little family of four had flourished despite living on a dead planet. Leda Calypso felt lucky to have her family. The six galaxies was dangerous, and to have a unit of people indiscriminately looking out for each other as best as they could was both a privilege and a rarity. 

As much as Leda wanted to keep her children at safe home, she couldn’t keep them there forever. 

They were seven, and that was the age where children were burning with curiosity, powerful enough to fuel spaceships. 

Typhon and their children had gone out exploring one of the smaller, safer ruins near their home. It had taken a lot of begging and puppy-eyed looks from the twins, but their mother finally relented. 

While she had been initially worried, she had faith in her husband that he kept their children were safe. No news was good news. 

Her relief wasn’t to last, however. 

A couple of hours had passed, and Leda received a frantic call from her husband, Typhon. 

“Leda! Leda, it’s an _emergency!” _She could hear herdaughter wailing in the background. Her maternal instincts were on high alert. 

“Typhon, what’s wrong?” She dreaded it as she asked it. 

“I—I can’t find Troy! I looked away for one second and he was _gone!” _He tried to explain further, but Leda hadn’t paid attention. 

Leda felt her whole universe turn.

“Where you now?”

“Just outside the temple.”

Usually, Tyreen was more of her father. Her precocious tendencies often got her in trouble. Troy, however, was a different story. The fact that he left his father’s side was highly unusual. 

She felt terror seize her.

“Typhon! Take Tyreen and go home, I’ll find our son.” She didn’t wait for him to reply; Leda abruptly ended the transmission. 

She grabbed her pistol off the wall of their home encampment and quickly went outside. She tore down the path from the safety of their home. It was still daytime, so the local wildlife wouldn’t come out just yet. Just because she had lived in domestic bliss didn’t mean that her fighting skills dulled over time. 

She was only a minute outside of their home. However, she saw the familiar tiny figure in the distance, puttering up the hill towards their home. He was cradling something close to his little body.

Leda was flooded with instant relief. 

“_Troy_!” She nearly cried out. Her son picked up his head at her voice. 

“Mom!” He happily chirped, walking towards her just a little faster. 

She ran up and embraced him, throwing her arms around his shoulders, being mindful not to hug him too hard. Leda couldn’t help but baby him; Troy was always so sickly, so he needed to be watched more often. Even though he outgrew Tyreen, she still saw him as the smaller child. 

“Are you hurt?” She hurriedly checked him all over his body, gently turning him in several directions. 

After careful examination, he wasn’t hurt! Leda breathed out another sigh in relief. 

If anything, he looked like he took a small tumble in the dirt. Troy grinned a wide gap toothed grin at her, oblivious to the gut-clenching terror his mother had at misplacing her son. 

“Mom! Mom! _Look! _Look what I found!”

Troy took a back from his mother and triumphantly held up the rock to her face. Leda’s concern was momentarily forgotten as she stared at the rock, she had never seen anything like it. She carefully took the rock out of his hand and examined it. It was a geode that had a neat split, showing almost pure Eridium inside.

“Mijo... it’s—it’s beautiful.” 

However, her awe immediately morphed to motherly concern. 

“Where did you get this?” She held it up for emphasis. 

The glow of pleasure had faded from her son’s face. He finally noticed her distress, knowing that he upset his mother. Troy bit his lip and looked down at the ground. However, he couldn’t lie to her. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he finally confessed.

“...I found it near the Tazendeer Ruins.” 

Again, Leda felt the same terror in her gut. She couldn’t help but let the guilt creep up on her; she had taught her children about Eridium earlier in the week. Troy probably had it in his head that he could find it.  And to her surprise, he had.

The power of a curious seven-year-old was an unpredictable, scary thing. 

She didn’t want to yell at Troy; she resisted scolding him doing something so reckless. The boy had done nothing wrong. He simply let curiosity get the best of him.

“Mijo... If you ever do that again, let your father know, okay?” Her voice was stern, face set in a deep frown.

Her child looked stricken. Troy gave a slow but uncertain nod. He bit his lip, afraid that he had gotten himself in trouble.

“Am... I in trouble?” He asked, pale blue eyes wide. 

Leda looked down at him, giving him a soft, assuring smile. 

“Of course not.” His mother assured him. Her hand gentled on his head, pushing aside his dark hair with an affectionate pat. 

She’d have to have a talk with Typhon in the near future. She was just thankful that her son was safe. 

“Troooy!” Came a small voice. Tyreen had nearly tackled her brother. She was crying, a small line of snot running down her face. Her husband was lagging behind, trying to keep up with her.

“Why’d you go off like that, you doof!” Tyreen scolded, however, she still hugged her little brother close. 

“Oww, not so hard, Ty!” He whined.

Seeing her children and husband had made her incredibly happy. But she couldn’t help but fear just a smidgeon of fear and uncertainty for the future.

It only occurred to their mother that they were becoming older. Smarter. More aware. Eventually, they would become their own people. It was almost frightening how fast they were growing. There were days where the questions were becoming more difficult to answer. 

Like how Tyreen was able to leech. 

Or why Troy wasn’t as strong as his sister.

For now, they were children, privileged to grow safely in the isolation that Nekrotafeyo provided. But they would eventually grow to be adults. 

She shook her head. 

_Everything will be okay._ She firmly told herself.

* * *

**Now**

His instincts had been proven correct.

“Shit, shit, shit—“ 

The moment he saw the Commander stumble, Troy reacted immediately, breaking into a full run. Using the full weight of his body, he flung himself forward and slid onto the bridge, air exploding out of his lungs. The section of bridge that he gracelessly flopped on had shifted upwards, almost out reach of the Commander. Nearly half of his body was hanging over bridge as he swiped at her. 

_There! _

He had managed to snatch her hand in time. 

Their Siren tattoos flared so brightly it nearly blinded him. He screwed his eyes shut and let out a yell, yanking his arm up as hard as he could. 

Thankfully, she weighed next to nothing.

“Shit!” 

He flung her back onto the bridge. The architecture had adjusted itself with the familiar grinding and rumbling of stones.Neither hard dared to move as the bridge’s sections shifted vertically, shifting into place.Whatever gears were influencing the bridge to move had finally stopped and the went bridge quiet and still. 

Yep, the Eridians were fucking assholes. 

Troy laid flat on his back, wheezing for breath, the Commander lying next to him. They both eventually sat up, with Ava struggling with the simple act. She tried not to look at the the man, who managed to look both annoyed and pissed.

“You dumb-assl!” Troy angrily spat out, his face morphed into a nasty snarl. His eyes were mercurial in the darkness. 

“I told you to wait—“ He turned to her, ready to verbally tear into her for her foolishness. 

Whatever angry words he wanted to lash out with died the moment he saw the state the blue haired woman was it. She looked way too out of it to reply with a proper rebuttal. 

It was pathetic. He felt a slight stirring of pity. 

“Ugh.” He swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. The cave had felt mercifully cooler down here, away from the sweltering moisture, but now the smell was bothering him. 

“I’m leading.” He told her flatly. Ava didn’t fight him on it, or looked too out of it to care. They carefully moved off the bridge and back onto more solid ground. Aside from the obvious fuckery of the Eridian bridge, there didn’t seem to be any other structures that would kill them outright. Unlike the other Vaults, there wasn’t any dead Eridian spirits around. 

_Curious. _

Troy unholstered his pistol and clicked the safety off anyways, just in case. 

He walked slowly for the benefit of his shorter companion, who was currently lagging behind him. He felt an uneasy sensation crawling along his skin before he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“We’re close.” Troy said out loud, tensing. It must have been Siren instinct, probably due to their connections with the Eridians. Whatever the case, it wasn’t a welcome feeling.

The Commander didn’t respond.

“Commander?” Troy looked at her. “You... good?” 

“Gimme a sec...” She responded. She slumped against an Eridian pillar. She gave several pitiful wheezes, then went suddenly went lax and fell forwards. 

Thankfully, he had been watching.

Troy threw his arm across her shoulders before she toppled over onto the floor. Had he not been there, she would have cracked her that hard, stubborn head of hers on something. He placed her against his open side, trying to keep contact with her to a minimum. 

Their tattoos lit up in unison as he touched her. Troy carefully laid her against the wall, making sure she wouldn’t keel over, then crouched beside her. She barely reacted when he placed the back of his hand across her forehead. 

“Damn. You’re burning up.” Troy stated bluntly. 

She barely responded. The Commander was in rough shape. 

“Fuck. Nope! We’re stopping.” 

That seemed to rouse her out of her sickness induced stupor. 

“No!” She insisted, pushing against him. Predictably, he didn’t budge. 

“We need to get going to... the Vault...”

_Stubborn._

“You serious? You can’t even walk straight.” Troy scoffed. 

He could poke her and she’d collapse like a house of cards. 

“Gotta... get... The Vault.” The Commander deliriously mumbled, grabbing at him. She tightly gripped at his empty coat sleeve, trying to right herself. 

Troy had to hand it to her. Even though she looked close to catching her death, she was pretty fucking tenacious. He let out a short sigh, then holstered the pistol. He took out his ECHO and used it to contact Tannis. 

“Science lady? Your Commander is sick.”

All he heard was the distinct noise of static. 

“Hmm.”

He gave the battered ECHO a slight whack against his leg. Troy let out a small curse; he remembered he was in an Eridium enriched cave. It was fucking with communications, especially with a shitty old ECHO like his. 

Troy thought they should turn back. The Commander clearly wasn’t in any condition to continue. Yet that eager seven year old still in him was burning with curiosity. The tiny voice was spurring him on to check what was inside of the Vault.

He made the choice for her. He turned back to Ava, prying off her hand. 

“I’ll check the Vault. Just stay here.” His tone didn’t brook any argument. 

The Commander shot him another hostile glare, or at least she tried to. It wasn’t all that impressive, considering she looked close to passing the hell out.

“Fuck you. You can’t stop me...” She growled. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Troy nearly let out a laugh. It seemed so fucking juvenile. He rubbed at his face. 

“Tell you what, if I betray you or some shit, then feel free to gun me down.” He half-joked. He stood up. 

“Calypso, get back here—“ 

He ignored her protests and walked on ahead; he doubted she had the energy to chase him. The hallway curved away from her and in the span of one long minute, it was just him. The further he walked in, the more the cave seemed to close in on him. 

The air here seemed to gather, becoming stale as it settled downwards towards something more definitive. The familiar feeling of that ancient decay clung to his skin, settling on his chest like a weight. He felt his hair just barely brush the ceiling of the ceiling. The hairs on the back of neck rose just a tad. 

The path had another dip he didn’t anticipate and he slipped. He stepped and felt himself falling. He threw out his hand in a panic. 

Only to awkwardly butt against a solid wall. 

He had reached a dead end. The wall was an uneven, haphazard collection of jutting, gray and black Eridian slabs. 

“That’s it?” He mumbled, somewhat incredulously. 

He shined his torch on it, trying to angle the light so that he could search around it. He ran his hand along the wall, taking care not to catch himself on any of the corners of the slabs.

Then he felt it. The familiar smoothness of Eridian metal. He took a step back. He saw the vault arch was embedded in the wall. It was only slightly taller than he was, and was honestly underwhelming in appearance.

“Hmmm...” 

The issue was that he had no idea on how to unlock it. There had been no mention of a Vault Key. The Commander even stated that the Vault wasn’t all that large to begin with. Only that there was something that maybe could help them in the fight against the COV.

He remembered from his mother’s lessons that all Vaults had come in all shapes and sizes. Troy hadn’t done this “vault hunting” thing in a while. His career had been cut short after he made planetfall on Pandora. He realized it was far more lucrative being a cult leader and have others do that shit for him. 

Troy’s eyes darted back and forth at the wall. He tucked his hand underneath his chin, pacing back and forth as he surveyed it. 

He was admittedly at a loss. 

“Fuck.” He said out loud, if only to fill the mental void he was experiencing at failing to open a simple ass Vault. 

He puzzled it out for several minutes. He wracked his brain, then remembered his mother’s lessons. Some Vaults only needed to be opened with Eridium, or a puzzle.

He obviously didn’t have Eridium on him, but there didn’t seem to be an unlocking mechanism.

He heard some shambling footsteps, a light erratically bouncing off the cave walls. He already knew who it was. 

“Dammit.” He groaned. 

It was none other than the Commander. She braced herself against the wall, looking like a pale, sweaty specter out for revenge. The light from her belt threw her face into a shadowy contrast, casting her face in an eerie glow. She looked pissed and ready to fight. 

“Ugh. Look, I told you to wait back there—“ 

“Calypso.” Ava wheezed. “I told you I was comin’ with—“ 

She stumbled forward, like him, she didn’t anticipate the dip. 

“Dammit!” She yelped. 

He managed to catch her as she awkwardly pitched forward. They ended up against the wall, with her against his chest.  What happened next had caught them both by surprise. 

Their Siren tattoos flared in unison again.

The swirls in the wall lit up when they made contact with it, quickly spreading outwards like a ripple. Ava looked side to side, alert as she examined the wall. 

The man both stared at the his red markings in surprise. He tilted his arm in different directions, examining his arm. 

The sensation of his Siren powers had felt strangely muted since his incarceration in Promethea, like he was forced underwater and he couldn’t breathe. The sensation hadslowly started to come back, almost like he broke the surface of the water.

And it always happened when he touched her.

_What the hell was going on? _

Before he could ponder any further, the Vault Arch wall had opened up, the dark blue inter-dimensional rift opening to swallow them up.

Both of them let out a yell as they fell backwards, with him landing on his flat on his back. Gravity crushed her against him, both of laying chest to chest.

“Ugh!” 

Using her last reserve of energy, she pushed herself off him. They both slowly got up. 

Well, it was more like the Commandet sat up. The pair of Sirens looked around the room. 

The Vault Interior was nothing special. Given the scale of Vaults he saw in the past, the Vault he was felt underwhelming. Just a small inter-dimensional pocket, an Eridian mural on the opposite side of the Vault arch, and a small Eridian statue. 

Troy felt a small tinge of disappointment. 

This entire expedition felt like a _wild goose chase. _Another saying his dad like to say. 

For all the effort they put into finding the a vault,  this was what they came for? 

A tiny statue, holding something rather unremarkable in its hands.He carefully pried the artifact out of the statue’s hands. 

“The hell is this?”

It was a smooth, small dark grey disk, easily fitting in his palm. It looked like it was made out of the material that the Vault Keys were made out of. He ran his thumb over it, examining it. There was a distinct geometric pattern etched into it.

He turned the disk in hand, recognizing the pattern rune as “power.”Or, at least he thought it was power. Eridian wording wasn’t necessarily precise in context.

He didn’t have an inkling of how something like this could even be used.

“What is it?” The commander asked. She braced her arms on her knees, sightlessly staring out.

Troy turned to and handed it to her. She looked at it, looking as equally as puzzled when he felt. It didn’t look as though she didn’t either.

She pocketed it with a shrug.

“I guess we got what we came for.” He lamely finished. 

Ava slowly nodded and stood up. 

“Then let’s go.” 

The moment she stood up, her eyes rolled into her head and she blacked out. Her body finally seemed to give up.

Troy caught her. 

“Commander? Hey. Hey!” 

There was no response. She had overexerted herself and was out now like a light. 

Troy groaned. 

“Shit.” He muttered for the hundredth time that day. Her Siren tattoos were a bright blue. His own hadn’t reacted. After a few minutes, he finally had thrown her onto his back, arm awkwardly shoved under her skinny legs. He had to lean forward to compensate for his missing arm, flashlight in his mouth. 

He had done this plenty of times when he had to carry a drunken Tyreen out of bars, back when they were novice Vault Hunters. 

———

He got safely out of the cave with the Commander in tow. 

The moment they made it outside, Troy activated the hands free function on his ECHO and contacted Tannis again. It took a second before she answered. 

“Yo. Science lady.” He intoned over the ECHO. 

“This had better be good.” Tannis impatiently answered. “I’m in the middle of a rather involved discussion with my lab assistant—“ 

“Yeah, _yeah_.” He rudely interrupted. He wasn’t interested in whatever weird shit Tannis was engaged in. 

“The Commander’s real sick. She needs help.” 

Tannis let out an irate sigh.

“Honestly, I knew she shouldn’t have gone to Eden-3...” He heard her mutter. 

“What symptoms is she displaying?”

“She has a fever, sweating up a storm ...She’s not looking good. Also, her Siren tattoos are all... glowy.”

“Glowing, you say?” She suddenly sounded interested. “Very well, send her up to Sanctuary.”

“Gotcha.” 

The Commander had miraculously come to. 

“Calypso— what are you doing?” Ava groaned. 

He shot her an irate look. He could have let her fall to her death on the bridge. He tried to tell himself that he only looked out for her strictly out of self-preservation, a trait that the Commander desperately lacked. 

That little voice that he ignored in the back of his head nagged at him again. 

_Just admit that you wanted to help her. You’re not a total, heartless freak._ The voice told him. 

He scoffed at the voice. 

“I’m sending you back to Sanctuary.” He replied flatly. 

“No— The prisoners...” 

“They’re fine.” He lied, without missing a beat. He didn’t know how well-off they actually were. 

“You—“ 

“You can argue with me all you want when you get better.” He deadpanned. 

He managed to press something on his ECHO, enabling the Fast Travel function. 

Troy let out a small sigh of relief when he felt his back get lighter. 

_“Kill the Heretic!”_

Troy pointed his gun in the direction of the screaming bandit. Bandits had slithered out from behind the structures. A few of them somehow survived the onslaught from the Vault Hunters. 

The Psycho that was about to chuck his buzzsaw axe at Troy had fallen limp at his side.

Troy hesitated, not knowing how to react. 

“It’s you! The Godly Brother, The Father...” 

They immediately bowed at his feet, prostrating themselves before their false idol. 

“Our God-King has returned!” They praised. 

His eyes widened in shock, repulsed from their praise. 

No. There was no way they could have recognized him, no way they could have—

His Siren tattoos were glowing red in the moonlight, glowing like an unholy beacon in humid night. 

The bandits would have recognized their god up close. While he couldn’t see their faces, their body language suggested that were disbelieving that their god had appeared in the flesh. They practically threw themselves at his feet, fearful of maintaining direct eye contact. 

“No, I’m not—“ 

“We have waited for you, God-King.” The Psycho said, though he had been facedown, his voice partially muffled by the ground. 

“For you to bring forth our holy salvation!” A bandit addressed him reverently. 

The other Vault Hunters had gathered a careful distance from him, watching with apprehension. His eyes flicked over to them, then he saw the soldier lady’s hand hover to her holster belt. 

“Blessed is the Father who brings unending chaos to the blasphemous masses!” The bandit ranted.

Troy felt his world turn. He took a step back in shock, as if their words had physically _struck_ him.

There was something so inherently _wrong_ about hearing that line being spouted.

It was that shit had he had initially written as a joke. It was something that kept the bandits brainwashed, bloodthirsty, and in line to carry out the Calypsos “divine will.” 

Troy curled in on himself, throwing his arm over his face as he felt sudden bout of nausea. He unconsciously clenched his teeth so hard he could feel the metal canines creaking under the pressure, thegrinding sound audible in the quiet night. 

He started to tremble uncontrollably with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. Troy hated how obedient they were. How _easy_ these idiots were to manipulate. 

_How easily that bullshit led him to hurt others. _

The bandits continued to rant with their frenetic fervor, unaware of their former god’s sudden change in attitude.

_This is the beast you created. _He could almost hear his mother’s gentle voice whispering in his ear, heavily tinged with sadness. 

“Here the God-King appears again, ready to bring about his divine will-“ 

Something in him snapped. Something deep-seated and ugly, _raw_ and _bleeding_. 

“I’m not.” 

He decisively moved to a prostrating bandit, then coldly emptied a bullet into the back of his skull. The other bandits looked on in shock, but failed to retaliate. 

Troy exhaled loudly, breath coming out in a harsh, shuddering stream through his gritted teeth. 

“I’m _NOT_.” He forcefully repeated. 

His vision started to blur dangerously, and all he saw was blood red, the bandits becoming indecipherable shadows in his growing rage.

Red-hot _seething rage_ had erupted from every pore of body.

“God-King, what—“ 

“I’m different.” Troy sharply interrupted. His voice shook, betraying his outwardly calm demeanor. 

He kicked over another bandit, emptying the full clip into his stomach. The man couldn’t scream as he bled out, internal respiratory organs utterly destroyed by the spray of bullets. His life blood painted the ground beneath him, casting an eerie glow in the moonlight. 

The deceptively calm demeanor he possessed moments before disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

“_I’m_ _different_—“ The statement came out in a guttural growl. 

_Scum-sucking bottom feeders. _

He blindly rounded on the last bandit, his rage towards bearing down on him full force, a mere target of his wrath. 

_Violent mouth-breathers. _

“God-Kin—“

He kicked the last bandit onto his back, then savagely pistol whipped him in the face. 

_Simple-minded sheeple being led to the slaughter. _

**“I’M DIFFERENT!” **He roared, scream rippling through the night. 

His eyes were open and wild, lips were drawn back, over his teeth, fangs glinting and bared.

The writhing man underneath had screamed.  The image of a feral and enraged Troy Calypso was the last thing he would ever see. 

He savagely brought the pistol down on his newest victim’s face with a resounding crack. One the second hit, the protective mask had split. Troy continuously hammered away, blinded by primal rage.

After the sixth or seventh hit, Troy raised his pistol high over his head and then brought it down as hard as he could. The sickening _crack_ of bone could be heard, followed by the wet, visceral _crunch_ of a skull caving in. 

His victim had jerked violently underneath him, then went still. 

The other Vault Hunters watched in stunned awe as they witnessed the cult-leader virulently beating the Psycho to with the handle of his pistol. 

Troy failed to cease long after his body stopped convulsing.

The Vault Hunters watched in awed silence. They hadn’t been horrified by the violence; seeing something like this was a normal occurrence. They were surprised by unexpected ferocity, the suddenness of it. 

What made the situation even creepier was that Troy had been silent, eyes wide with empty, zen-like focus as he hammered the man to death. 

Troy Calypso looked completely unhinged. No one moved to stop him. 

“Holy shit.” Came Moze’s response, her hand dropped away from guns on her belt. The rest of the Vault Hunters shared the same sentiment. 

Troy had regained clarity moments later. It had probably been a minute, but it was an unbearably long and uncomfortable minute for those that witnessed it.

He didn’t know what had happened. All he knew was that he was on his knees, the breath being stolen out of him. Th e first thing that he smelt was the sharp, coppery tang of blood. 

Troy looked down. The bloodied pistol that he was gripping fell from his now hand and clattered away.

_Oh._

The corpse’s head was nigh unrecognizable. It looked like Pandorncorn Piñata after a bandit festival. He  abruptly stood up and away from the corpse immediately.

That _probably_ wasn’t going to go well with the Raiders. 

He could feel their eyes on him. If they were distrustful of him then, they certainly weren’t going to change their minds now. After all, who was going to trust a man who had straight up murdered a man in a blind rage? 

“We should get going.” Troy calmly stated. His single hand shook and he gripped it hard to stop. He took out his ECHO and fumbled with the keys; his fingers were covered in bandit blood. 

The Vault Hunters mutely acquiesced. No one mentioned his abrupt murder spree. 

Amara shot a look at Zane who nodded tightly back at her.

———

Ava had hazily came to in the medical bay. She rubbed her eyes, tiredly, but her fever was gone. She though wasn’t aware how much time had passed. She tried to sit up. 

“Ah, I see you’re better, Commander!” Tannis cheerfully greeted.

“Here, drink this.” 

She unceremoniously shoved a cup into Ava’s hands. Tannis was proud to say that her bedside manners had slightly improved. 

“Tannis, I... How long was I out?” Ava asked hesitantly. She took a sip from the cup. 

“Ah... Twelve hours?” 

Ava nearly sprayed the drink and turned to Tannis in alarm. 

“Twelve... That _long?” _Ava looked incredulous. 

“The hell? Why didn’t you wake me up?” She nearly demanded. 

Tannis shrugged.

“The thought did cross my mind, but I believe it would have been better simply to let you rest. I did not want to inhibit or jeopardize your recovery with more drugs.” 

“Oh.” Ava felt oddly touched by her concern. 

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind, but I had the liberty of acquiring some samples from your unconscious form. I must admit, studying your unhealthy cells is fascinating!” Tannis’ eyes were gleaming. 

Was that why her arm was so sore? She flexed her bicep and winced. Leave it to Tannis to acquire samples when someone was unconscious. 

“Okay?” 

“I’ve never seen you quite this ill before. Sirens are resilient to common illnesses and display even less symptoms.”

_Your symptoms are very similar to another patient we have on board. _Tannisquietly thought to herself with a smile. 

“No kidding.” Ava wryly replied. “It feels like I got hit with the universe’s worst case of space-flu.” 

Tannis hummed in confirmation. It was still a working theory, however. 

“I am curious, when did this illness manifest, Commander?” 

Ava shrugged. She had been too preoccupied with everything that it had sort of _snuck_ up on her.  Ava looked at the ground, brow furrowed in concentration. 

It was probably after Calypso was let on board—

_Wait. _

“Calypso! Where is he? What happened when I was out?” She picked up her head to look at Tannis. 

Tannis coughed uncomfortably. 

“Ahh... Well, Commander... we have a slight situation.” She tried to phrase delicately. 

Ava didn’t like the sound of that. 

“What do you mean? What kind of situation?” 

“Oh, nothing so bad.” Tannis quickly reassured her, although it sounded a little too quick for Ava’s comfort. 

“It’s nothing you can’t handle. Though I recommend that you check the cargo bay as soon as possible.” The scientist stressed. 

Ava’s eyes widened. 

“Crap.” 

The Young Commander shot up from the bed and exited the medical bay. 

Tannis blinked at her sudden departure, Then shrugged. She went to the centrifuge and blinked at the contents inside. 

“Oh, my!” 

How very _interesting!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of a writer’s block with this one. Typing on an old-ass (read: 5-year-old) smart phone is garbage. 
> 
> As always, comments and criticisms are always appreciated. They keep encouraging to evolve this story further. They are l i f e. 
> 
> T h e y s u s t a i n m e
> 
> ...That was creepy. D:


	13. Dogs On Leads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long. Explanation is in the end notes.

**Dogs on Leads - Accept **

And they can walk in a line

And they dance on a rein

Something's there that cools them off 

But it seems some kind, some kind of tough

They're all

Dogs on leads - dogs on leads

Dogs on leads - dogs on leads

Dogs on leads

* * *

He jerked awake, inhaling sharply through his mouth, the sound a choked, rattling gasp. The moist, hot air of Eden-3 had been replaced by the cold, stale recycled air of a ship. 

And one hell of a concussion.

“Ngh... _fuck.”_

His head was swimming with pain. He was lying on his stomach, at an awkward angle. His face was pressed against the floor grate; facial mods painfully jabbing his inner cheek and gums. He slowly righted himself, trying to let the persisting, throbbing ache on the side of his skull subside. He remembered losing his shit, after some bandits had tried to praise him and—

He shook his head. The aftermath had been  far from pretty.

The moment they traveled back onto Sanctuary, some fucker got behind him and got him _good._ If he were a betting man, that fucker was probably the old guy. Or the buff Siren chick. 

He guessed that they threw his unconscious ass in somewhere aboard Sanctuary.  He gingerly touched the back of his head, his hand coming away somewhat sticky with his blood. The wound had healed somewhat, crusting over.

So, the Commander’s little Vault cronies have finally taken it upon themselves to dispense a little good old-fashioned vigilante justice. Perhaps he’d been a little  _too_ generous with his estimation of a month. If he wasn’t in such pain, he’d probably be chuckling by now.

They probably didn’t trust him after witnessing that shitshow spectacle of a psychotic breakdown.  Hell , there were times when he didn’t trust himself. He had... done shit in like that in the past. It was rare. He’d fly into a rage, and then he would suddenly come to and there’d be a warm corpse underneath him.

He knew that they wouldn’t trust him. Whatever small amount of credence he’d built up had probably been lost. 

But being thrown in here like common chattel had predictably put him in a fouler mood. 

Angry, sarcastic Troy came snarling the fuck out.

“Yep. Just another day of being a sacrificial lamb for the Raiders.” He slowly muttered. He got up with some effort, grimacing as his head swam in pain.

“Got a fucking Eridian artifact, no big deal.” He braced himself against the wall, steadying himself.

“Hey Calypso, thanks for helping us out! Here, how ‘bout you take a little nap in the cargo hold, which we _totes_ won’t airlock ya out of. Raider’s Honor!’” He mocked, trying to imitate the same stuck-up tone the Commander had. 

He resisted the urge to kick something over in a rage.

“Everything’s fine.  _Great!_ _Su-__ **fuckin**’ -perb!”_ He hissed to himself.

_Actually, where the fuck am I? _ He silently questioned.

He held up his arm to illuminate the room. The light from his Siren tattoos cast everything in a hazy, soft red glow. He could make out outlining shadows of boxes, but was hesitant to check inside.

He hoped they hadn’t thrown him into an airlock.

He could hear small snippets of conversation on the other side of the door. He leaned against if and strained his ears to hear.

“I still don’t know what we have to gain by letting him on board...” A deep female voice could be heard. It belonged to the buff Siren chick.

“I know, right? I still wanna know what Ava’s thinking.” Came soldier lady’s reply. 

“Rhys must have done something to convince her. I don’t see how he was able to do so otherwise.”

“Still... That was...” 

There was a beat of silence, as if the Vault Hunters struggling to say what they truly thought.

“Beating a bandit to death with a pistol was highly unorthodox.” Replied a robotic voice.

Ah. So that’s what he did when he momentarily blacked out.

He took a step back from the door and accidentally knocked over something. It was the shell of a dead Claptrap.

“He’s awake.”

“Shite.”

There were more hushed voices until he heard a newer one.

“Where’s Calypso?” Came an angry, familiar voice.

———

Within the twelve hours of Ava’s temporary absence, things were already looking bad for Calypso

She tore down the halls at Tannis’ suggestion, ready to spill some blood if necessary. 

_I swear, if that fucker’s done anything. _She silently swore to herself, gripping the pistol tightly in her hand. 

When she got to the cargo bay, she was instead greeted with the sight of the Vault Hunters standing calmly in front of Claptrap supply closet, er, _room._

”He’s awake.”

”Shite.”

She stepped up to them. 

“Where’s Calypso?” 

“Oh, Ava!” Zane greeted. “Troy’s in, uh... here.” 

“Did he do something? He has hurt anyone?” 

“Not exactly, but—“ Ava bowled on past them and unlocked the door with her powers, training her gun on the supply closet door.

The door hissed open, artificial lights nearly blinding him in the face. This was strangely reminscent to another situation. He squinted, eyes trying to adjust against the light. He saw the Commander was angry, but for once, it wasn’t directed at him. The moment they made eye contact, he stiffened up nonetheless, muscles coiled like a wild skag.

When he made no move to strike, she only slightly lowered her gun. 

Ava gave him an impassive once over. She tried not to question why his clothes were liberally covered in dried blood. It clearly wasn’t his. 

Holy shit.

The sight made only her finger itch just slightly towards the trigger of her gun. She noticed his eyes flicked downwards, not missing the movement, before darting back up to shoot her another pensive glare. 

“What the hell happened to you?” She asked. 

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Came his wry response. 

“I think one of your guys got me.” 

Ava’s eyes narrowed. He had no reason to lie. She holstered her gun and let her hand fall away from the grip. 

“You should clean up. You look like shit.” Ava plainly told him, surprised at how neutral she sounded. Her hand relaxed on the grip. 

“...Just go to Tannis and get patched up.”

Troy gave her a terse nod and left. At this point, he felt thankful he was being treated like chopped liver rather than a focal point for her wrath. His heavy footfalls clunked against the grate. When she could hear them no longer, Ava let out a sigh of stress. 

She turned to the Vault Hunters. 

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” Her voice was oddly calm, she crossed her arms, looking at them in expectation.

“Care to tell me why he was shoved in Claptrap’s closet?” 

They casually shrugged, but no one replied. 

“No? Okay, then. Was it really necessary to knock him out?” She questioned, clearly irate at having to diffuse another potentially messy situation.

The operative looked to Amara. The Siren warrior nodded back at him.

“Ava, it’s complicated. You needed to be there to understand.” Amara tried to soothe, using that voice again. The big sisterly kind of voice that had grated on her nerves more these days rather than comfort her.

Zane spoke up second. He sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

“I mean you _were_ indisposed. You said to keep an eye on him.” Zane faltered slightly under her glare and he immediately fessed up.

”Ah...feck it, lass.  Honestly . We don’t trust the manky git, all right?”

Ava stared back at him, incredulous. She didn’t care at all for Calypso’s wellbeing. However, if word had spread, it would have sent the Raiders the wrong kind of message. The ship could have devolved into fucking chaos. 

“Didja not hear the part where I said_ ‘no fighting?” _She stressed, crossing her arms.

Besides... Ava didn’t want anyone taking any more shots at him. That honor was reserved solely for her.

“We technically didn’t fight him. Zane had the idea to knock him out.” Moze replied evenly. “We were gonna do more, but Calypso didn’t wake up.”

“But  _why?”_ Ava asked, irate.

The Vault Hunters looked between each other again. 

“Boyo lost it on Eden-3. He lost his _shite_ and killed couple a’ bandits. But the way he went about was...” He coughed to clear his throat.

“_Disturbing_. He beat a bandit to death. With a pistol grip.” Amara finished.

“Split that poor bastard’s head open like a ripe pumpkin.” Zane darkly added. 

Ava leaned to the side slightly, crossing her arms as she processed the information. Okay... That would explain the blood. 

That  _was_ disturbing.

“I have to agree with Zane, Commander.” FL4K agreed.

“Seeing Troy Calypso so mentally unbalanced made everyone here uneasy.”

Ava trusted her comrades’ words. She had no reason to doubt them otherwise. They, like Ava, had become somewhat ambivalent to Calypso’s presence. The distrust was still there. Afterall, who could trust a cult leader? 

But he hadn’t done anything suspicious _yet_. Still, the universe made one extremely weary. Before made the jump to Eden-3, Ava had kept tabs on his presence through her ECHO. If anything _did_ happen, she was still confident they could take him out.

“Ugh... Just don’t do that again.” She asked. The Vault Hunters nodded at her and dispersed. She once again resigned herself to her room. Ava was seated at her desk, flipping through her book. 

At this point, having him on board was a terrible idea. He was _unpredictable._ He made everyone nervous. She was going to call Rhys and tell him to take Calypso back. And yet...

He willingly provided intel from the bandit clans. And then he watched her back when they were fighting the bandits. She almost fell to her death, and Calypso had saved her. Granted, he almost ripped her a new one afterwards.

That had to account for something. 

_Life for a life. Eye for an eye, right?_ She could imagine Maya say.

She was at that damn moral crossroads again.

“Why can’t things ever be easy?” She moaned. It would have been easier if emptied a bullet between his eyes and be done with it. As she mulled over her thoughts, a distracting beep from her ECHO broke her out of it. 

“Commander, you have an incoming transmission from Rhys!” Claptrap cheerfully announced.

Ava groaned.  _Again? _She accepted it anyways.

“Bad time, Rhys.” Ava said with a sigh. 

”Avaaa! Long time, no talk.” 

Rhys went on,cheerfully undeterred. She suspected he did that on purpose.

”It’s only been twenty-four hours.” She blandly pointed out. 

“How goes my  favorite Siren Commander?” His grinning hologram appeared on her ECHO. Ava rolled her eyes at him. 

“You know any  other Siren Commanders?” She archly replied, falling into their usual back-and-forth routine. 

Rhys’ mustache bristled with amusement.

“Touché. So, I heard from Tannis that you acquired the artifact from Eden-3?” He eagerly asked. 

“That’s right.” She confirmed. “Took us a bit, but we got it.”

Rhys clapped his hands and eagerly rubbed them together.

“Perfect! The amount of research grants we can get from this will carry the Crimson Alliance _far._” Rhys twirled his holographic mustache, looking pleased. 

“But I gotta know... How’s your new teammate? Eh?”

Ava bit her lip. Now came the moment of truth. She hoped she wasn’t going to eat those words. 

“He’s good. Better than expected, I guess.” She finally admitted. 

“Still, I can only trust him as far as I can throw him.” She quickly reminded him. 

“But that report did help, right?” 

“It was... informative.” Ava admitted. More than she wanted to know at some points. “Probably didn’t need to know the weird thing with the beatboxing.”

Rhys snickered. Okay, it hadn’t been necessary to add that tidbit, but it was funny. 

“Anyways. You _do_ have the contracts drawn up, right?” Ava asked, wringing her hand. 

Before the jump to Eden-3, she and Rhys had put their heads together to craft some paperwork to make doubly sure he wasn’t going to be a filthy turncoat. The contents would be revealed to Troy if he had “passed” his trial run with the Raiders. 

It still made Ava nervous. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many angles that needed to be accounted for, but she hoped she knew what Rhys was doing.

“It was a headache, but yes. They’re finally done!” Rhys confirmed. 

“So, we’re going through with this.” Ava let out a small breath.

Holo-Rhys nodded again. He seemed to be in a good mood. Surprising, given he always seemed so frazzled. 

“Yep! Come on back to Promethea with Troy. We have some things to discuss. Rhhhys... _Out!_” He gave a dorky salute and then his hologram disappeared.

“Great.” Ava sighed. 

———

“Science lady...” Troy called out. “You here?” He looked around the lab. 

It was dark and quiet. The only thing he could hear was the beeping of medical machinery. He saw the console for the lights and touched it, the lab flickering back to life. Everything was meticulously kept in place. 

_Empty._ Huh.

The only thing different about the lab was her missing. That, and the dead Saurian on the table. He stared at it for a second before turning his attention back to the empty lab. 

Usually, she would flitter about until she noticed him and then proceeded to talk at him. 

“Science lady?” He loudly tried again. Still no response. He peeked over the curtain dividers, feeling somewhat ridiculous. 

“Hey. Tan—“ 

At the mention of her name, the dead Saurian jerked to life, shifting on the medical bed. Troy turned to notice the noise. A pair of bloody hands peeked out from the mouth, prying it wide open. Troy froze, watching the now writhing Saurian with equal parts disgust and fascination. 

He resisted the the urge to stomp it to death. _For now. _

There was a series of unpleasant squelchy, fleshy noises as a figure wiggled forth from its mouth, landing on the floor with a wet sounding _plop. _

Troy recognized the bloodied form as Tannis. 

“Whew!” Tannis let out a sigh of pleasure, languidly stretching her arms behind her head. 

“Nothing refreshes the mind better than a nap!” 

_What the fuck?_ His eyes bugged out slightly. 

It was then that she took notice of Troy. Her face split into a grin, green eyes bright and pearly smile showing underneath all the blood and gore. That small, reptilian part of Troy’s brain felt just a frisson of primal fear. 

“Ah! It’s... you!” Tannis awkwardly blinked at him. “Troy Calypso?”

He blinked rapidly at her, momentarily stunned to reply. 

“Why the _fuck_ were you sleeping in a Saurian?” He blurted out. 

“Oh, this?” Tannis chuckled. She swiped away the blood. Unsuprisingly, it did nothing.

“I find that the stomach lining of my friend here helps isolate the constant buzzing these lowly intelligent flies seem to make. It keeps the urge to poison all of them at bay!”

Troy stared at her, inching ever so slightly towards the door. 

“Were you here for something?” She asked impatiently asked. 

“Right. Right!” Troy coughed uncomfortably.

“I uh— I got a head wound that needs checking.” 

“Oh, really?” Tannis let out an impatient sign. 

“Well, let’s get it examined before I deem you a waste of my time.” 

“Could you, ah, y’know, shower first?” Troy wasn’t exactly a germaphobe, but he didn’t want to catch what she could be throwing. Tannis blinked down and examined herself, as if she forgot that she was covered in blood. 

“Oh, right!” 

She stepped onto a small shower station and touched a panel. She didn’t bother taking her clothes off. The water ran over her until it ran clear, spinning down into the drain.

An awkward minute later, a wet Tannis was examining Troy. 

“Whoever, ah,_ ‘clocked you’ _hit you rather hard.” She hummed. 

“No shit.” Troy grumbled. Thankfully, the throbbing in his head finally ceased. His attention was turned to the disk shaped Eridian Artifact floating in its small enclosure. 

“That’s the Eridian artifact on Eden-3.” He pointed out. 

Tannis wasn’t a fan of small talk, but anything Eridian made her talkative. Perhaps it was because she was in an uncommonly good mood from her power nap.

“Yes! I am trying to deduce its usage. I’ve tried playing it Digby Vermouth, coaxing it with casual conversation, but to no avail. He’s a silent fellow. I’ve also tried to use the translator, but nothing.”

Troy looked at the artifact and tilted his head, recalling the writing on the disk.

“Power.” He said, recalling the Eridian writing on the disk. 

“I beg your pardon?” The scientist’s curiosity was piqued. 

“_Redirection. Force of change._ At least, that’s how I read it.” He said with a shrug. 

“Oh? Really? I’ve seen it as _protection, _or _shield!_ We must get together and start translating more Eridian some time!” She cheerfully stated. Tannis then looked horrified at the prospect of socializing. 

Tannis coughed, the. turned to a cabinet and grabbed a tube of antiseptic paste. When she went to examine his head wound again, she made a small noise of surprise. 

“What’s this? It appears your little head wound is gone!”

Troy ran his hand through his head. 

“No shit?” He questioned. She was right. No weird, crusty head wound which he was sure he’d be sporting for weeks. 

“You know what that means!” There was that crazy gleam in Tannis’ eyes again. 

If he refused, he’d probably be drugged unconscious anyways. Troy let out a miserable little sigh and resigned himself to his fate. 

“Just... no marrow samples.” He warily eyed the gloves that Tannis snapped on. 

“Please?”  He asked the last word with quiet desperation.

———

Troy emerged from the lab grumbling minutes later,tenderly rubbing at the spot just above his right ass cheek. She stuck him again. 

The only way his day could be better is if the bite-sized Commander appeared to rip his head off for whatever imaginary line he crossed. 

She was waiting by the med bay. Their eyes met.

_Speak of the devil. _

Her eyes narrowed at Troy. That seemed to be her way of customary greeting.

“We need to get to Promethea.” Was her way of saying hello. 

“Rhys has something for you.”

It was a command, but a subtle one. Troy shrugged, he might as well accept that she was going to treat him like shit. 

An inter dimensional jump and a Fast Travel later, they were on Promethea. They were waiting outside of Rhys’ office. Once again, the Commander made no attempt at conversation. It was just frosty silence and short, clipped words.

“Come on in!” Rhys said over her ECHO. Ava rolled her eyes.

Rhys’ office was quite ostentatious, but fitting of his station. There was a huge terrarium on both sides. Their eyes were assaulted with lush, photosynthetic green. It was like Rhys plucked some fairytale forest from an ECHO book on stuck it right inside of his office. Natural sunlight filtered in through the skylights. The last time Troy was here, there was an aquarium with dead or barely alive fish.

“No aquarium this time?” Ava asked as she looked around. She placed her hand on the glass and leaned in to take a closer look. Some small creature slammed itself against the thick glass in a blur of movement, then disappeared back into the tall grass. 

So maybe it was a zoo?

“Funny thing, the fish kept dying no matter how well I tried to maintain the tanks. More aesthetically pleasing and easier on the budget, too!”

They entered his office, Rhys cheerfully greeted the pair. 

“Welcome! Welcome!” 

He seemed particularly eager and excited today. 

“Want anything? Coffee? Tea? Water? High quality pastries?” 

He presented a pastel pink box filled with a flourish. It was stuffed to the brim with baked goods.

“If you’re offering.” Troy shrugged. He snatched a dark chocolate ganache and strawberry filled donut and took a huge bite out of it. 

Rhys’ heart sank slightly. He should have put that one aside for himself. 

Troy finished the donut in a second bite. He obnoxiously sucked at his long fingers and reached for another donut. 

_Please not the danish, please not the danish. _Rhys silently pled. 

Much to his dismay, Troy grabbed the blueberry-cream cheese glazed danish. Rhys let out a slight noise of distress. Ava gave him a strange look. 

“_You shoul’ hab one, Commanber.”_ Troy plied with a full mouth, spraying crumbs everywhere, shaking the half eaten danish at her. Ava gave him a disgusted look.

“No thanks.” Ava sat herself down, sitting a careful distance away from Troy.

“So, first order of business... How’d you two fare on Eden-3?” Rhys abruptly asked, looking expectantly between the pair. 

Ava crossed her arms and scowled, looking off to the side. Troy was similarly tight-lipped. Probably because he was immersed in his pastries. Neither of them wanted to admit that their teamwork was okay. It was fine if they didn’t talk, however. Rhys could compile that data from Troy’s implant.

”Were you at least convinced that the report helped?” 

Ava let out an irate sigh. 

“Report?” Troy questioned, looking between the both of them.

Rhys let out an uncomfortable cough. 

“Well, I, uh had a report written up to give to Ava. You know, I hadto convince her for you to join the Raiders. And, I _eh_, might have given her some recordings of your time in isolation.” Rhys sheepishly admitted. 

_Well, shit._ Troy was slightly uncomfortable. The Commander still didn’t maintain eye contact with him. So... she saw him _do_ things? He wasn’t much of an exhibitionist, unless they’re was a willing participant. 

“You’re an interesting case, Troy. Watching you this past year was rather... illuminating.”

Not exactly choice words. Troy was officially creeped out. 

“Didn’t know you were such a _voyuer_ for me, Strongfork.” Troy snarkily replied, covering up his obvious discomfort. 

“Gah! Okay, y-you know what I meant!” Rhys quickly replied back, looking flustered. 

“I’ve been curious. Why didn’t you try to break out when you realize you weren’t going to die?” 

Troy shrugged. 

“What was the point? You saw that I don’t have powers. I have a single arm. What was I gonna do? I thought I was about to die anyways.” His self-loathingcame slithering back. 

“...After all the shit I’ve done, I also feel like I _maybe_ deserve to be thrown back in there.” He quietly added. 

“I can throw you back in, if you’d like.” Rhys half-jokingly offered. 

“Thanks. But no thanks.” Troy flatly replied. The former cult leader shot him a scathing glare. 

“So, why did you take up my offer on leaving then?” 

Troy shrugged and grabbed another donut. Thankfully, it wasn’t Rhys’ third choice. 

“You gave me a chance at freedom, why wouldn’t I take it? What’s that saying? Dangle the carrot to entice the horse.” He took another bite and thoughtfully chewed it. 

“To be honest, I was okay with letting you stay in prison. But there was something bothering me.” Rhys slowly admitted. He slid back into that serious persona that made Troy somewhat nervous and second guess the CEO. 

The tall man sat up, paying rapt attention. 

“Go on.” Troy replied. 

“You kept asking a certain question.” Ava said. “It was bothering me, too.” 

Rhys looked to Ava and she nodded back. Rhys’ face became grave.

“So....Why the change of heart? Why are you helping the Raiders?” 

Both Ava and Rhys knew which question he was referring to. Troy paused on that thought.

He felt two pairs of eyes on him and felt his stomach plummet to the proximity of his ankles. Why the _hell_ was he just  now feeling this way? Troy chewed on his lip. He leaned forward and stared at his lap, dark brows furrowed together. Ava could see the tip of a gold canine glinting under the office lights. 

Well, for starters. He didn’t want to rot in a cell. This newfound purchase on life certainly convinced him otherwise. 

Was he doing this out of the goodness of his heart? He thought that part of him, that last  pathetic vestige of his humanity, had been dead and buried after living Pandora for so many years. But it was there. That tiny voice that urged him that the things he did were wrong. He felt shame, remorse for his actions. How much he felt, he still was struggling to unpack that. 

Was it some altruistic bullshit?It certainly didn’t feel that way. Troy couldn’t have cared less about others. Was he trying to absolve himself of his past sins? After everything that was said and done, could he? 

What could he have differently? And more importantly... Could it have mattered? 

For the first time in a long while, he felt  _lost. _

Troy always had a gift with words. He was always quick with a sharp-tongued comment or a thinly-veiled barb at the ready. It was a weapon of self-defense that he honed over the years. But at this moment, where his words _needed_ to matter, he had difficulty verbalizing what he genuinely wanted. 

His hand unconsciously tightened on his leg. 

“I... don’t know.” He finally admitted. 

There was a beat of tense, awkward silence. 

Ava let out a short sigh of annoyance. She couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed by his hesitant confession. 

“Are you kidding me? You don’t know? Or you don’t care?” Ava asked, unimpressed. Troy leveled a glared at her, then shook his head. 

“I don’t fucking  know .” He roughly finished, voice raising slightly. He sounded frustrated. His breath came out in a small, short burst. 

Ava didn’t push him this time. She was curious to hear his answer. 

“Look... I’m trying to figure out why the hell I’m still alive.” He pointed out. 

“Because you’re a _parasite_.” Ava spitefully confirmed, said the with the intent to insult him. She recalled he had to feed off of his sister to survive, or else he would perish. 

Troy felt his temper rise, but he didn’t take the bait. 

“Was. Doesn’t feel that way anymore.” He corrected. It still deeply bothered why he wasn’t dead.

“My sister did try to kill me. She would have succeeded, if the Commander here didn’t stop her.” He firmly pointed out. 

“Still should have let her finish it.” Ava angrily muttered. 

“The fact remains—“ Troy interrupted. “You saved me from dying. I don’t know what I could have done differently, but... I’ll settle the debt.” 

Ava still wasn’t convinced. 

“So, then what?” Ava asked, angrily crossing her arms. 

“Huh? What?” 

“After you settle your debt. Are you gonna start up your own cult again?” She bluntly asked. 

Was she _serious? _Hisface fell flat. 

“Fuck no.” He firmly told her. “Never _again._ I’m done with that cult shit.”

Rotting in isolation taught him a hard lesson. But Ava wasn’t moved. 

“You still have shit to answer for. There were people you’ve hurt.” Ava calmly pointed out, but her voice was trembling with fury. “Don’t forget that you—“ 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Rhys interrupted. He wasn’t going to let this devolve into another ugly fight. 

“I think we can agree that Troy is willing to help out.”

His goofy persona had slid back into place. Rhys looked strangely approving at Troy. Like he had passed some secret test of character.

Ava let out an angry huff and sank down into her chair. Troy just grabbed another donut. 

Whew... Just a regular sugar donut. 

“So... the final question remains... Are you willing to make a plea bargain?”

The donut paused halfway to his mouth, his hand stalling its inevitably delicious fate. 

“Say what now?” Troy asked with an arch of his brow.  “Wasn’t I already... freed?”

Rhys leaned back in his chair and looked slightly amused. 

“Of course not. When did I ever say that? You know, you’re officially under custody of ATLAS Corp.” 

Troy was about to reply, then found that he couldn’t. Rhys had only said that he’d join the Raiders, nothing more. 

Rhys shuffled a couple of papers around. 

“Luckily for you, I convinced my board of directors not to put you on trial. If it were up to them, you’d probably be a lab rat for rest of your life...”

Rhys scooted over to the side and opened a filing cabinet. He was pulling out more stacks upon stacks of paper, each with fine print, placing them on his desk. Ava stared at it awe. There was that much? 

“Think about it this way, you can have a fresh start.  Most the universe thinks you’re dead, but your status is officially MIA. Only you, and Ava, and the Vault Hunters knows that you’re officially alive.” Rhys shrugged. 

Troy ate the sugary donut in one slow bite. At this point, he was stress eating and the box was already halfway empty. 

“However, you end this corporate war, then you’ll get to be free. No questions asked.”

Troy knew that it was too good to be true. There were always terms. Rhys might have been a “good guy,” but he was still a cunning corporate man at the end of day. He chewed it and then swallowed. 

“Then... What do I have to do?” Troy asked.

Rhys into a wide smile. 

“You fill out paperwork! And lots of it. We need to keep tabs on you so that you won’t turn on us!” Rhys said cheerfully. 

“C’mon, you-you think I would just let you go? After especially since you’re a highly prolific war criminal?”

Troy groaned. 

“Wait... you did?” 

The former cult leader mumbled something under his breath. Though it was unintelligible, Rhys and Ava already knew what his answer was. 

Rhys let out a hearty laugh, practically wheezing on the spot. 

“Ahahaha-HA! You _totally_ did!? That’s-oh god, that’s funny.” He wiped a stray tear away. He reached underneath his desk and pulled put a huge stack of papers. 

“—Anyways.” Rhys went on. “Onto paperwork!” 

And so began the long and arduous process of paperwork. There were procedures, clauses, and liabilities,  oh my. Thankfully, Troy had been in enough merger meetings with multiple corporations that he understood its jargon. Contract legality and its terminology had always been a damn headache.

The first condition was that he dismantled any major joint COV and Maliwan operations across the six galaxies. 

“What the _fuck, _Strongfork?” Troy asked incredulously. Rhys looked up from his paperwork to give him an owlish blink. 

“What seems to be the problem?” 

“Lemme stop ya there. You know you’re asking the impossible, right? The COV’s a ten-billion strong murder cult and Maliwan has multi-septillion dollar funding!” 

Rhys blinked at him, nonplussed. 

“I’m aware. I mean, you did volunteer to stop them.”

Troy pulled at his face. 

“Yeah. I only agreed to stop the CoV. If they’re still in cahoots with Maliwan, then we have a fuckin’ problem.” Troy pointed out. 

“...Go on?” Rhys asked. 

“We need  _funds_ Strongfork.” Troy emphasized, pinching his thumb and pointer finger together. 

“You know, wampum? Dinero. Shekels. Can’t fight two armies unless you got some cash cache hiding somewhere.”

“Well, ATLAS provides for most for the Raider’s armaments—“

“Those fancy peashooters?” Troy scoffed. Rhys noisily ‘_hmphed_’ in indignation. 

“Those ‘fancy peashooters’ you’re referring to helped the Raiders defeat your dumb cult!” He shot back. 

Troy let was harsh bark of laughter. He remembered ATLAS numbers were pathetically thin. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that Maliwan has the fastest RND in the universe? They’re developing tanks with EMP rail cannons and hover treads.” He emphasized. 

Rhys hadn’t thought that Maliwam would still be developing new weapons. Junior's damned pleasure yacht really should have been taken as a war trophy. 

“Oh, r-really? Hover treads? I don’t know if we can fund another effort outwards—“ 

Troy facepalmed. Small army, tightening budget, and Maliwan was attacking the Raiders on all fronts? It was a war of attrition, with the odds overwhelmingly in the enemies' favor. 

Oh god, their situation was _fucked._

Why'd he even agree to help now?

To both of the men’s surprise, the Commander had been listening in closely and kept up.

“Calypso, did you freeze your assets before you got thrown in detainment?” She asked. 

Troy looked suspiciously at her.He had accrued a rather nice nest egg. He was going to use funds to takeover Maliwan once the COV fucked them over. When the Vault Hunters killed Junior, he  would have succeeded. But then his plans had been foiled when he failed on Pandora. Not that he was going to say any of it out loud. 

“Yeah... Why?” 

Ava looked meaningfully at him. 

“How about you unfreeze your account, take that cult money, and put it to good use?” She suggested. 

“Uhh—“ 

“Think about it this way. You said you wanted to settle your debts, right? Right.” She confirmed with a nod before he could answer.

“Yeah, but—“ 

“How much did you make, by the way?” She questioned. 

He wasn’t about to divulge that particular tidbit of information. Ava wasn’t surprised. She decided to give a little push. 

“ATLAS can always forcefully requisition your accounts. I’m pretty sure there _was_ a clause in that mountain of paperwork somewhere stating they can take them for reparations.” She replied with a shrug.

Troy had been secretly scheming to squirrel away his funds. He glared at her. She hardly was affected by his patent glare. 

“So... How much are you willing to provide?” Her stare became pointed. 

_Unless you’d prefer to have Rhys take all of it. _

Troy hesitated and then wrote down the number on a piece of paper, sliding it over to her. Ava took an impassive glance, then scoffed. She showed the number to Rhys, who looked well on his way to having a heart attack. 

“Th-That _much?_” Rhys spluttered. 

Troy nodded, but his eyes were shifty. 

“...Leading a religion is pretty profitable.” He admitted. 

Ava wasn’t convinced. She took the paper, calmly marked it, and slid it back to over to him. Troy gawked at the writing. 

“All you did was add a zero.” He pointed out. She shrugged and rolled her eyes. 

“I know you have more.” 

“But... That’s nearly my entire fortune.” He let out a nervous chuckle. 

Ava shrugged, obviously uncaring.

“Yeah, well... the COV  did hit ATLAS pretty hard. If you can prove to Rhys that wasn’t the amount accrued in damages, then you’d better get those receipts.” The Commander buffed her nails against her chest and examined them, bored. 

For once, Ava was thankful for her boring gift of accounting. If she could suck Calypso dry _and_ make him sweat, she didn’t feel too bad about it. 

“Ooh, ooh! A reparations fund! We can set it as the second condition!” Rhys readily agreed. He tapped away on his keyboard, adding a careful revision to the document. 

“Fuck.” Troy grumbled. He rubbed at his face.

“With a percentage returned...once you qualify for release.” Rhys was nice enough to give him at least that. 

“Don’t worry! Consider it a reparation-slash-bail fund!” The CEO assured him.

RND was going to have a field day once they realized they funding was going to be a hell of a lot higher. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll have the Crimson Raiders and my soldiers to help out with their new weapons!”

"Your RND department better have some good ass guns. A magnum's nice and all, but it's gonna do shit against a tank." Troy obnoxiously pointed out to Rhys. 

“Noted. Onto the next order of business!” He said jovially. Troy glowered. 

Ava had a smug grin of satisfaction, but she successfully hid it behind her scarf.

“Third requirement, your ECHONet privileges are temporarily revoked.”

That had upset him more than giving up his money to ATLAS, or dealing with the near _impossible_ task of dismantling a both his and a mega-corporation.

Troy immediately protested. 

“Say  what!? _ Why?_” Troy protested, breaking out into a sweat. Ava gave him a confused look. 

_Seriously? That’s what he’s mad about? _ She wanted to mutter. 

“Well, because I’d hate for someone to track your ECHONET IP. You’re still a _highly_ prolific war criminal. Wouldn’t want enemies surprise attacking you in the middle of nowhere.”

Troy was insulted. This was the man who was able to remotely hack into supposedly top-tier ATLAS' databases with his old man's ECHO. 

“I know twenty-digit encryption and layering! Hell, I practically invented the ECHO Deep Web!” Troy protested. 

The CEO shrugged and finally helped himself to a pastry. He grabbed himself a bear claw at random.

“We can’t take that chance. Encryption isn’t an airtight solution. It’d  be mega-bad PR if people found out you were affiliated with the Raiders and ATLAS by extension.” Rhys p ointed out. He brushed at his mustache, combing the crumbs out. 

“C’mooon, don’t do  _that_ to me!” Troy pleaded, almost sounding desperate. 

“I-I need something to entertain myself with! I have a several dozen ECHOFlix series I still need to finish!”

“Sorry. No can do.” Rhys shrugged, unmoved. He wasn't going to budge on his stance. 

”At least lemme watch the third and final season of _Grog of Thrones! _I’m_ almost _certain I know who the Mother of Grogans is!” Troy said with a pathetic whine. 

Rhys raised an eyebrow. It was almost infuriating to Troy how calm he looked.

“I mean, there’s always the books? _Pfft-heh._” The CEO snickered at the thought. Who read _books?_

“Ah, cheer up! It’s only temporary. You’ll get it back once you’re free.” 

Troy scowled and angrily snatched another pastry from the box and took a vicious bite out of it. Raspberry jam squirted out the end, splattering onto the corners of some papers. Rhys raised an eyebrow and shook the jam out before continuing on. 

"Right! So, continuing on.."

The fourth requirement was personally the most difficult.

“So, you are hereby legally bound to serve the Commander.”

He had to do what wanted the Commander wanted him to do. The Commander was his detainer. If she asked to him to jump, then dammit, he had “How high?” with a smile on his face. 

This was coming from someone who was used carving a bloody path in his own life. 

“That means no subterfuge, betrayals, treachery, backstabbing, double-crossing, thoughts of perfidiousness, trust breaching, etcetera, etcetera, and so forth.”

Aren’t those all the same words? Ava thought with a blink. 

“Those are your requirements! Any more questions?” 

Ava raised an eyebrow. Rhys still didn’t reveal the usage of the third option on Troy implant. 

“Paperwork’s fine and all, Rhys. But that’s all it is. What makes you think Calypso won’t betray us?” Ava asked, leaning back in her chair. She gave Troy a stern look. 

She was back to treating him like chopped Rakk liver again. 

“How can we enforce something that’s only in writing?” 

Rhys nervously fiddled with his pen. 

“Ah, well... should he violate the terms of his contract, there will be consequences.“

“What _kind_ of consequences?” 

“Incarceration and involuntary experimentation. There’s also a, uh... _second option._”

_And believe me you don’t want me to get to that. Please don’t make me. _

“What’s the second?” 

“Glad you asked!” Rhys said with a high voice. 

“Should everything fall apart and he decides to betray you, well...  Instant termination.”

Troy was going to regret asking this, but he went on ahead anyways.

“And what exactly does ‘instant termination’ supposed to entail?” 

Rhys looked slightly uncomfortable. 

“So, there was a reason why I couldn’t the reveal third use for Troy’s implant right away. Given your, uh,  _shared_ history. ” 

That was putting it lightly. Troy chanced a look at the Commander. She caught him staring and he hurriedly put his attention back to Rhys. 

“Emotions were running a  little _high_, so I figured you two could use a little team synergy to build up some trust—“

While Rhys blathered on about some more nonsense, Troy started to quickly piece together what the implant could do. He frowned. 

“Get on with it, Strongfork.” Troy told him irritably. “Tell her what it does.” 

Rhys’ face became uncharacteristically grave again. 

“It’s... a bomb? I think?” 

Dead silence filtered between the three. After a minute, Ava was the first to break the quiet room. She let out an uncomfortable laugh. 

“Haha... Why—why do you sound so unsure about saying that?” 

Rhys shrugged. He straightened a small sheaf of papers before shoving them into a drawer in his desk. 

“Well, it’s not a bomb, per say.” He corrected. “More like a centralized neural connector that could overload and instantly kill him—“ 

“I’m sorry. Say _what now? _ Could?” Ava flatly interrupted, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. Troy’s hand nervously flew up to the implant.

Rhys chuckled, though it sounded a little forced. 

“Well, of course! I, heh, wouldn’t want you accidentally setting off a _bomb_ while you’re in the vacuum of space.” Rhys shook his head and let out another small chuckle. 

No one was laughing along with him. Especially the tall man who looked ready to stand up to throttle him. Now that the CEO thought about it, Troy’s hand looked awfully large enough to— 

Rhys hurried on.

“It’s actually a little device that ensures compliance. Observe!”

He snatched the ECHO from Ava. Using his ECHO eye, he scanned the device and added a third function to the app. He pressed the button. The implant lit up and Troy suddenly seized up pain, slamming his elbow over Rhys’ desk to steady himself. 

“AHH!” Troy shouted, making Ava jump in her seat. 

“What the  _fuck_, Strongfork!?” He snapped, looking livid. Ava reclined back in her seat slightly. She shot another worried look at Rhys. 

Rhys grinned. It was a little too wide and manic. He perched himself on top his desk leaned back on his flesh arm.

“D’you see this?” He pointed at the device at the top of Troy’s implant. It was small, but noticeable, similar to the Viper Drive they used on Skywell-22. The Atlas logo was printed lengthwise.

He pressed his temple and a three dimensional schematic of the device appeared on his desk.

“This is the ATLAS D-O6 Conductive Oscillatory Logistical Labor Automative Reformatory device!” He proudly presented, holding his hand out to indicate the complicated looking schematic. 

Ignoring Troy for a moment, Ava tilted her head as she quickly recounted the first vowel of every word.

“...Dog collar?” She sounded out, looking slightly puzzled.

Rhys paused as he processed her words. He grinned and pointed at her.

“Hey, that sounds pretty good!” He chortled with approval. 

“Rolls right off the tongue. A lot easier than calling it the Conductive Oscilli— Dog collar!  Love it!” The CEO finished. 

“So... I’m assuming it does what its supposed to do?” Ava was oddly calm. 

“Should Troy forget his deal with ATLAS, you, the Commander can give him a little, heh, reminder—“ He pressed the button and Troy seized up in pain again.

“Fuck!  Strongfork, I’m gonna wring your**_ —Ahh_****_!_**“ Troy was zapped again before he could complete his sentence. 

“—Of his contractual obligations!”

“Piece of  _shit!_” He bellowed. He erupted into another string of curses, involving colorful phrases like _shitting fuck meat _and_ son of a father-fucking titbagged whore. _

Rhys grinned manically wide at Ava again.

“Anyways! I scrounged this little beauty from the old underground RND labs. I figured since you didn’t entirely trust him, I had to devise a little safeguard to make sure he wouldn’t go back on his word and-slash-or betray you!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Strongfork!” Troy half barked, half sarcastically praised, rubbing the back of his head as he glared at the grinning asshat with a porn ‘stache. 

So, he had a literal shock collar. Attached to his fucking brain. It probably would be kinky if it didn’t potentially result in his death. Troy glared at the CEO. Rhys obnoxiously beamed at him in return, then continued on.

“And-and can you believe it? The original intent of the dog collar was used for a totally mundane purpose. It was to make sure that ATLAS employees clocked in on and out on time! You were even a second late and  _zap!_” He emphasized with a sharp clap. 

Both Sirens involuntarily flinched.

“Instant Pandoran microwaved burrito! They were real sticklers, the old ATLAS corporation. Hoo, boy...it was— It was a huge mess.” He laughed uncomfortably.

Ava stared at Rhys in open mouthed horror. On the other hand, Troy was starting to  maybe develop a nagging sense of regret for throwing his lot thrown in with the Raiders.

“Any questions?”

Ava furrowed her brows for a second, deliberating on what to ask.

“Yeah. Are you some kind of _weird fucking sadist?_” Ava may have despised Troy, but she wasn’t willing to hurt him out of spite. 

At least, _not yet_.

“What? Of course not! Now, don’t worry, the Dog Collar is the 6th prototype in the series. I’ve adjusted the amperage so that his brain won’t turn to instant mush—_Ahem_!” He cleared his throat. It probably was in their best interest not to know  too much.

Ava didn’t like the sound of that. It was slightly worrying.

“We’ve worked out _most_ of the kinks and well—“

“_Most?_” Troy thundered, standing up from his chair. 

Rhys’ finger hovered over the touch function, a smug smirk firmly in place. Troy immediately plunked himself down on the chair, getting the message loud and clear. Troy growled, fist tightening. He looked positively murderous. 

The urge to wring the CEO’s twiggy neck was slowly rising.

Maybe if he murdered Rhys, he could null and void the contract?

“Do you find these terms and conditions acceptable?”

Troy forced himself to calm down. He had to surrender his wealth, and kill off the both the COV and Maliwan, and give up his autonomy to the Commander... All while having no ECHOnet.

He begged whatever god up there to make his death swift and painless. 

“Yeah, _sure._” Troy forced the last word out with a hiss. He tiredly rubbed the side of his face. 

_Not like I’m in a position to change them._

“Do you hereby swear to uphold your sworn duty, under penalty of incarceration and/or instant termination?”

“...Yeah.”

Rhys smiled and produced an ECHO document with a flourish. He pressed the side of his temple to do away with the schematic. 

“Great! Sign here, here, initial here, aaand—et voilà!”

Rhys stuffed the some of paper documents into multiple manila envelopes. 

“You’re now officially the Crimson Raider’s contractually obligated lap dog—Err...” Rhys shut his mouth when he saw the newly minted Raider’s face twist into a scowl. Even Ava was slightly put-off by his lack of tact .

“Wow... If that’s a joke, it’s a poor one, Rhys.” She pointed out. 

Rhys smirked and raised an eyebrow at her. Ava was the one who had a habit of picking of up strays. 

“Think about this way, once you fulfill all your requirements, you’re free to go! I mean, you’ll be kept tabs on for the remainder of your life, but still—“ He shuffled a few things around on his desk again. 

“Freedom! Yeah! Think of it as your golden parachute!” 

“That’s cool. Not gonna think about how it could fucking hang me on the way down or some shit.” Troy angrily muttered, hand still hovering over the implant.

The pastry box was almost perilously empty. There was only a single donut left. Ava grabbed it out of the box. 

Rhys let out a small noise a of protest. It was _that_ donut he had wanted for last! 

Ava took a bite of what she thought was an innocuously chocolate covered donut and then spit it out. Her face was screwed up in disgust. 

“Eugh! Was that dill pickle!?” She looked offended by the vile concotion and tossed it in the wastebin. 

Rhys sighed in disappointment. Chocolate and dill pickle was for refined tastes.

“I look forward to your continued success in the future!” Rhys spun his pen in his hand, eyes bright and subtly scheming. 

From mighty God-King to a mangy guard dog. 

Fucking great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life update! 
> 
> I am so SORRY it took me forever to get this chapter down. The reasons are twofold: One, I got down with the sickness. Two, my garbage phone is well on its way to shitting the bed. As much as I would love to post more, my capabilities are limited to posting fanfics. And an occasional shitpost if I’m feeling saucy. Forgive my craven ass~ 
> 
> The good news, I’ve gotten a new phone coming on its way. I’ve saved all my drafts for the upcoming chapters. This transition will be a little rough, but I will always try to have a weekly update. Please bear with me through these trying times. :<
> 
> As always, your feedback is always highly appreciated! 
> 
> Love you, boos.
> 
> -Noct


	14. The Handshake

** _The Handshake - MGMT_ **

_You convince yourself that you want it, but you don't know_   
_You keep trying to wash the blood from your hands, but it won't go_   
_We're gonna keep you on the run_

_We got the handshake under our tongue_   
_We got the handshake under our tongue_   
_We got the handshake under our tongue_   
_We got the handshake under our tongue_

* * *

  
While the Commander was toiling away at what was no doubt mind-numbing paperwork with the chattering, walking mite colony whose name she had trouble remembering, Tannis toiled away on far more important work. 

After Ava had left to check up on their captive guest in the cargo bay, Tannis went to collect the Eridium samples from the centrifuge. 

"Oh, my." 

The moment she had opened the centrifuge, one of the hermetically sealed tubes had managed to split open and bloomed like some sort of flower, consuming the top half of the flask.

Tannis was puzzled at the Eridium samples. They had remained in a liquidous state. 

The liquid had crystallized and she had nearly pure Eridium on her hands. She carefully prodded the test tube, then picked it up with a pair of tongs. Whatever slag that had attached itself to the Eridium while it had been in its liquid state had separated and settled at the bottom of the test tube. The test sample had contained Troy's hair. 

The Eridian scientist was deeply fascinated by this new discovery. 

She looked between the partially covered flask and the Commander's newly acquired Eridian find, the small disk floating in its enclosure. The artifact had somehow altered its physical state. 

This needed more research. Her green eyes were gleaming like a mad scientist, on the verge of another scientific breakthrough. 

She needed more data to collect. More numbers to crunch. The Siren scientist had huge theory, of course, but in her unorthodox line of work, theories didn't mean much unless they were tested.

For the first time in a long while, Tannis felt anticipatory. Dare she say excited? Having such childlike emotions almost made her feel nauseated.

She couldn't wait for her favorite test subject to return. 

\---

It had been a long time since the Siren pair entered his office. 

"And... I think that about covers it!" Rhys cheerfully finished. He straightened out the final stack of papers and set it down with a definitive thunk. Ava was leaning into her hand, eyelids drooping close. The noise startled her awake and she shot up.

"Gah! I'm not sleeping, I swear!" She rapidly looked around. Troy couldn't say he blamed her; he was close to comatose as well.

The paperwork for his plea-bargain had covered all the bases. It was iron-clad. Troy really hated corporations, but he couldn't help but admire how well they covered their asses. But, it wasn't just the paperwork that they went over. 

Troys official role within the Crimson Raiders was their official informant. He possessed a veritable wealth of information on his dad's ECHO, containing. invaluable, comprehensive databases of information on Maliwan, the Children of the Vault, bandit clan figureheads, and practically everything inbetween. Troy had also become their second Eridian consultant, assissiting the Raiders in finding more Vaults. They had discussed in lengthy detail what his role entailed and the expectations he was supposed to deliver on. 

"Just say I'm a damn snitch." Troy flatly told Rhys. He was a sell-out to the highest bidder. Ironic, given he had sold out to Maliwan in the first place. 

Troy's working relationship with the Raiders didn't leave him entirely disadvantaged, however. Ava couldn't freely abuse the Dog-Collar if she was feeling spiteful. The implant would disable itself accordingly, a safeguard in place to ensure that she didn't fry Troy on accident. This did not assure the former cult leader just one bit. After all, there were other, more practical, more accessible means of killing him. The airlock threat came to mind. A potential lynching was another. 

After plowing through what was deemed an obscene amount of paperwork, Rhys took one look at the mentally exhausted Siren pair. He looked brought up the display on his desk. They had arrived around the afternoon. It had been six hours since they began and evening was already falling on Promethea. Rhys felt the time had passed too quickly.

"Y'know what? We should probably take a short break."

The pair let out a sigh of relief. Only a pencil-pushing nerd like Rhys would look cheerful and energized after hours of boring garbage paperwork, Ava thought grumpily.

So, no, he didn't have a cavalry of yes-men doing the paperwork for him. He pulled up his sleeves and did actual legwork. Her respect for the CEO went up marginally. Ava pushed out from her chair and stretched.

"Any more questions before we go on break?" 

Troy grunted. Anymore talk about his "contractual obligations" and he was going to reach across that desk and rip Strongfork's mustache off right his dumb, bureuacratic upper lip. 

"Yeah. Where's the bathroom? I need to take a piss." The man asked. He stood up from his chair and stretched his long legs. He hated sitting for long periods of time.

"Go out of my office and go left. You can't miss it."

"Cool." He ambled out towards the exit.

Rhys gave him a warning look at his retreating back. Troy could feel the suspicion rolling off the Commander. 

“By the way... Any attempts to tamper with your implant, and, _y'know_." Rhys called out before the man had reached the door. Troy stiffened but didn't turn to face him. He didn't need to; Rhys had already figured it out. 

"_Zap_ \-- Instant microwaved Pandoran burrito. Got it." Troy replied, repeating Rhys' earlier words with lukewarm enthusiasm. 

"Glad you understand!" Rhys replied, his voice bright and obnoxious.

Troy flipped him off, exited, then wandered down the hallway until he found the restroom. The automatic doors slid open to accodomadate him inside. The executive restrooms were a great deal nicer than the breakrooms he initially saw when he first was in ATLAS HQ. 

Rhys was right about the implant, however. But Troy wasn't exactly being subtle. 

He made a beeline towards the fancy line of sinks to check the implant in mirror. He leaned against the sink and craned his head side to side, feeling for the implant. If Troy had any thoughts of betrayal, there was a deadly zappy thingy strapped to the back of his head serve as a harsh reminder not to do that. Could it fail to trigger if he abruptly Fast Traveled out of range? The ECHONet functionality had been disabled, so no dice. 

He was going to be stuck. For a long time.

Perhaps it was his overactive imagination, but the implant felt invasively fucking itchy. The urge to mess with it was still there. He nervously ran his fingers over the rectangular implant, the longer side running parallel to his spine. They had it bolted down tight, so it wasn't going anywhere. He dropped his hand and let it fall to the sink.

Fucking great. He waved his hand underneath the sensor and splashed his face with several splashes of water. Troy was filled with nothing but shit luck and bitter sarcasm these days.

_All things considered... You're getting off lucky._ The little voice in his head said with a smirk. 

Troy heavily leaned against the sink and scowled at himself. He didn't bother toweling his face dry. 

_Fuck off, brain. I mean, what kinda idiot do you have to be to accept having a nuke attached to your head?_ Snarky Troy replied back. That voice already had a rejoinder in the works.

_The kind of idiot who knows he has a chance._ The little voice pointed out. 

Troy let out a small growl of frustration, and glared at his reflection. He hated that he agreed with that voice. He abruptly turned away from the mirror, still not used to seeing his face. He exited and meandered back, deliberately taking his time to reenter. 

Just as he appeared outside Strongfork's office, he heard voices outside as the Commander and Strongfork were in the middle of a conversation. Troy paused outside of the office door and carefully listened in. Though it was muffled, the blue-haired Siren didn't exactly have a soft voice.

"--Why a bomb?" She asked incredulously. 

"That's just... so dangerous and stupid. Couldn't you have chosen something else?"

"There are safeguards, Ava. If he tries to mess with you or your ECHO, it'll read his signature from the implant and go off." 

He heard the Commander make a rude noise of disagreement. 

"That's not what I meant. If I were in his shoes, I'd be looking for a chance to bolt."

He had to agree with her, actually. That self-preservationist attitude kicked in the moment he found out he was tagged. He ran his hand over the implant, right where it met his neural port. 

"Besides, do you think Calypso is going to cooperate just because he has a micro-nuke stuck to the back of his head? He's a flight risk." 

"An EMP, actually." Rhys corrected. Troy could almost hear the smirk in his voice. 

"And he _is_ going to cooperate, flight-risk or not."

"How do you know he isn't planning on betraying us right at this moment?" 

Troy wanted to object. Jesus, did she have selective memory or some shit? He grit his teeth.

There was a small but deliberate pause from Strongfork. 

"Let's just say I've got a sixth sense about these things." He cryptically replied.

"_Buuut_ he hasn't given you any trouble, right?" He contined on.

This time, there was a small pause from the Commander.

"...No." She replied. _Not yet._ He could imagine her saying. 

"So, what's the problem then?" 

"He's... _unpredictable._" She finally admitted. "A wildcard." 

"You still didn't tell me what happened on Eden-3." The CEO pointed out, sounding genuinely curious. 

He heard a small sigh. 

"He saved me from falling on Eden-3. I heard from Zane and that others that he bludgeoned a bandit to death. With a pistol grip. He apparently lost it and killed him. It was unprompted... Probably."

"W-with a pistol?" Rhys asked nervously. 

"A pistol grip. What if freaks out in the middle of a mission? Or he... _you know._"

_Murders any of us?_

"Well, I assume you'd know what to do." 

Strongfork was talking about the implant.

"...Right."

"We got a lot riding on him. So, try not to kill him, okay?" 

"No promises." She wryly replied. "Though if he fucks up, I won't be held responsible." She sounded as though she were already expected it. 

Rhys coughed uncomfortably. To his credit, he sounded like he was more than aware of their _unique situation. _

"Think about it this way, once he's completed his contract, you won't have to deal with him anymore."

"It's not that easy." She admitted, clearly uncomfortable. 

The Commander mumbled something low.

"...Now I know I owe him something." She said with disgust. He felt an unpleasant twist in his gut. 

Did she honestly think he saved her because he was getting something out of it? Was she _that_ bothered that a former enemy saved her life? Did Eden-3 not mean anything to her? He scowled. Maybe it _would_ have been better to let her drop to her death instead. It would have spared him the massive headache.

"Where is he, anyways? Going to take a piss shouldn't take that long..." 

"You can check through your ECHO, you know." Rhys reminded her with an amused chuckle. Between everything, Troy had forgotten that his shiny, new death implant was also a tracker.

_Shit_. He hastily reentered. 

Troy pretended as if he just walked in, looking oblivious and not at all looking like he had just eavesdropped. Rhys was still sitting at his desk. The Commander leaned against the window sill, her small form silhoutted against the darkening Promethean skyline. 

They both looked at his abrupt entrance. Rhys looked slightly guilty, Ava merely scowled at the man and he returned it with one of his own. 

"He returns!" Rhys greeted. Troy broke eye contact with Ava rolled his eyes. 

"Like I can go anywhere else." Troy scoffed. He strolled towards the expansive coffee bar, pulling out a small mug. He shoved it under the sensor and it dispensed the dark brew. Ava gave him a suspicious look, but didn't comment. 

"As I was saying, you have to maintain a certain distance of Ava's ECHO at all times. Or--" 

"Yeah, yeah. Nuked-ass burrito. I get it." Troy interrupted. He took a sip, barely reacting at the scalding temperature. 

"What's the maximum distance? You know, so I won't accidentally fry myself." 

Rhys smirked in amusement. 

"Fifteen-hundred yards. Of course, you _do_ have a time limit to get back into range." 

"Yeah? How much time?"

Rhys grinned. He twirled his mustache in amusement.

"Enough." Was the CEO's vague response. Of course he wasn't going to divulge that information. All Troy needed to know was that he needed to be within range of the Commander, whether he liked it or not. 

_Well, fuck. _  
  
"I should probably add, all of this is highly confidential information. Can't let anyone, even close allies, know about your condition. Especially Maliwan." He chuckled. 

Troy wondered what happened to Maliwan.   
Since this was an ample opportunity to catch up on current events, he had to wonder. 

"So, now that Junior's dead, what is Maliwan doing these days?" He ventured. Troy glanced down at his cup of coffee and took a sip. Rhys contemplated it for a second, then sagely nodded. It was in Troy's best interest to know. Rhys went into important details about their rival's current state of affairs. Afterall, he was contracted to stop them. 

From what Troy could glean from Strongfork, it was thriving despite the loss of its CEO. There had been no love lost between the COV and Maliwan when Junior kicked the bucket. Junior, bless his cold, rich, dead soul, was a petty, ineffective leader and an even worse spender. 

He was a fancy little poodle with a diamond studded collar. He was all bark with very little bite. Who continuously reminded everyone about how ridiculously wealthy he was, and _oh, did I ever tell you my father bought me a luxury resort planet for my thirteenth birthday? _

"It was that fucking pleasure yacht, wasn't it?" Troy muttered. 

"The Zanara, yeah." Rhys confirmed.

Like Rhys, Troy suspected that Maliwan was significantly better off financially because Junior's pleasure yacht had been blown to space dust. Any idiot could see that that obscene, dong-shaped spaceship easily put Maliwan's accounts in red. 

_I paid **good** money to fully utilize the Zanara's fabulous design._ He could remember the pompous rich boy saying, as he sipped and looked down at the Calypso Twins through his expensive cocktail glass with utter disdain. Troy just snickered at him. Junior was an idiot-tier designer. Who in the right mind would design a spaceship like a _schlong_? There was no way Junior wasn't _not_ compensating for something.

The spectacular loss of the Junior's pleasure yacht had reduced Troy to wheezing, teary laughter for days. Thinking about it now still brought a smirk to his face. He would have paid top dollar to see that snooty, rich-boy dissolve into blubbery tears at the loss of his giant dick yacht. Unfortunately, he settled on a recording he hacked on the Vault Hunters' feed a year ago.

It would have been admittedly sweet to grab as a war trophy, but whatever debauchery happened onboard made even the likes his depraved ass shudder somewhat in revulsion. Aside from bragging about his obscene wealth, Junior didn't have a filter when it came to his many expensive and practical fetishes.

They moved onto the subject of Maliwan's current affairs. 

"Well, we've been trying to follow Maliwan's movments, whenever we can. We suspect that they might be striking Hephaestus next." 

"Hephaestus?" Troy repeated with a curious tilt of his head.

"We're going to have to make a stop there eventually. They've been interrupting ATLAS supply lines off-planet and Hephaestus is a major ally of Promethea." Ava explained. 

Troy nodded in understanding. From what he could remember, Hephaestus was an important planet for mined exports, so it would make sense for Maliwan to attack them first. He was familiar with saboteur tactics. After all, he was partly responsible for their current predicament. 

"Anything else I need to know?" Troy questioned, taking a quick sip of his now gross, lukewarm coffee. 

And now came the awkward part.

"Weeell, just so you know, Maliwan Corp put a huge bounty on your head." 

Troy nearly spat out the coffee. Ava was taken back by the news as well. 

"Say _what_?" He spluttered, nearly choking in his coffee. He sharply turned to Rhys, who was unperturbed by his gobsmacked expression. He shrugged. 

"If it makes you feel any better, they DO want you alive. It's half-a-trillion!"

The Sirens gaped at him. 

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" Troy asked rhetorically. 

He saw the Commander had stepped up to Strongfork's desk and looked positively livid.

"And _why_ wasn't I told about this?" Ava angrily demanded, slamming a fist on his desk. If any of the Crimson Raiders with questionable loyalties had caught wind of this, they were going sell them out to Maliwan faster than "_failed corporate merger._" 

She silently cursed herself for revealing Calypso's presence on the Sanctuary. She needed the Raiders to sign a gag order so none of them would spill. Which meant more _fucking paperwork_.

"Well, it's not public information... B-besides, I only found out about this a couple of days ago!" He nervously squeaked when Ava glared at him. 

"So what's the damn reason on putting a bounty on my head?" Troy demanded. He placed the cup back on the coffee bar with a thunk. 

"If I had to guess, the Katagawa family wants to make an example of you. The ECHO Deep Web was going crazy with rumors, especially surrounding your death."

Of course, people didn't know about his unique condition. No one knew that Troy had to leech his sister in order to live. The cam bot that recorded their fight against the Vault Hunters had been destroyed.

"They were out for blood when they caught wind that you weren't exactly dead."

Rhys coughed uncomfortably. He pulled out a bottle of expensive looking singularity malt whiskey and three snifters. He poured himself a glass and drank it in one go. He filled the glassed, pushing the others for Troy and Ava to take. 

"So, uh... Do all of us a favor and try to remain... you know... unseen?" 

Troy understood the implications. If he were seen by any Maliwan presence, it would complicate things. If they found out the Crimson Raiders habored a hot half-trillion dollar bounty, it wouldn't be good.

"To put it simply, Junior's father assumed head position a year after Junior died. He wasn't, uh, _happy_ that the Calypsos were sort-of indirectly responsible for most of his children's death. He needed a target, I guess." The CEO stated matter-of-factly. 

Katagawa Senior was "frothing-at-the-mouth" furious. He had declared an all-out war on ATLAS. It wasn't a merger this time. Maliwan was intent on completely eradicating their rivals off the face of the universe. 

Senior could have cared less about his children dying at the hands of his youngest, syncophantic son. The elderly man just was irate that he was pulled out of his retirement. He wanted to play low-grav black hole golfing in the Croesus system, Rhys explained. And Troy thought his sister was cold-blooded when it came to family. 

Some things weren't lining up logically for Commander. 

"But isn't the COV still allied with Maliwan? They would have problems if Maliwan wanted him." She pointed out.

Rhys shrugged helplessly at her.   
  
"That's what I thought as well. We're still looking into it." The CEO suddenly looked rife with anxiety. 

"I have a theory but, ah, you might not like it." 

"I'll be the judge of that." Troy sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

I mean, it can't get any worse, right? 

"I got word from one of my undercover agents that there's an inner circle within the CoV that may have suggested it." 

That had gotten the Sirens' attention.

"The fuck?" His eyes narrowed. Rhys nodded gravely, watching the man's face. Judging by Troy's reaction, he hadn't known about this either. This was both good and bad. 

"They appeared right after Tyreen's death. They might have been the ones responsible for arranging the attacks on Promethea during Troy's imprisonment. We're trying to get an ID, but no dice." He took a sip of the whiskey and grimaced.

This newfound development nearly blew Troy off of his feet. Troy briefly tuned out the CEO as he processed that bit of information. 

So, some inner circle of bandits had arranged attacks on ATLAS. It hadn't been random. Bandits were dangerous but stupid, and Troy had been ultimately dismissive of them. And yet... They had somehow coordinated attacks for the very specific purpose to free him. They knew he was imprisoned on Promethea, contrary to Strongfork's claims that his location was top-secret. The CEO had claimed that the COV were doing fine without him. If that were the case, then why bother trying to free him? 

The information was unsettling on so many levels that the former cult-leader could only begin to comprehend. He focused back on Rhys again. 

"--There was rumors that Katagawa Senior wanted to pass the torch onto Naoko, the last surviving Katagawa. But she's currently missing." 

That was an interesting bit of information. 

"You know any chance of where she might be? Because this war would have had a real chance of stopping if she stepped in." 

Troy raised an eyebrow at him. He knew what Rhys was implying, a frown marring his face. The last time he saw her was when he met with Junior a little over a year back, when the Calypsos had started up their corporate merger with Maliwan. She was supposed to die on the Zanara at Tyreen's hands, but she dipped. 

"If finding her wasn't part of the plea bargain, then she's not my problem." Troy bluntly told him, snatching the other glass of whiskey off his desk.

_Fucking corporate asshat._ He wanted to add. He had enough shit on his plate to deal with.

Rhys smirked. Okay, so Troy got him there. 

"It was worth a shot." Rhys shrugged. Troy made a rude noise with his teeth.

"Then why not use your new funds, Strongfork?" Troy told him irritably, referring to his nearly empty coffers. Even though it was a fair trade for his life, he was sore over the seizure of his accounts.

"And while you're at it, how about don't you funnel some into surveillance for these assholes?" 

Troy made a small mental note to do some research. There needed to be a little investigative work done on this supposed inner circle. He just didn't know where the hell to start.

"That can be arranged!" 

"I'll need also need data, Strongfork. If I can also get some kind of pattern on Maliwan's attacks, then we got a real chance of countering them."

"I can send you that data over your ECHO." Rhys tapped at his temple where his ECHO eye was. Troy rolled his eyes. 

"Cool. Except that I don't have an ECHONet Key to accept it over." Troy sourly replied, reminding his of his recently revoked privileges. Rhys blinked. It seemed he forgot. 

"No problem, then I'll just send the data over to Ava and you two can plan it out from there!" 

He heard the Commander let out a sigh of irritation. She knew it was a thinly-veiled attempt at getting them to work together. Once again, she wasn't pleased with the idea at having to work with him more than was strictly needed. The thought of working with her when she openly carried a grudge made him uncomfortable.

You and me both. He silently agreed. 

"Are we done?" Ava asked impatiently. "I need to get back to Sanctuary."

"Ah, right! Things to do, more COV to fight. I get it, your time is invaluable." Rhys said with a firm nod, stroking the length mustache with approval. 

Ava rolled her eyes and didn't bother to contradict him. This was the same man who wasted maybe hours of her time with facial hair care products and the many benefits of having a neatly trimmed flavor saver. Like, why didn't he just talk to Zane about this?

"Well, I'll be seeing you and Ava in the near future!" Rhys said cheerfully.

For once, this war could have an actual turnabout that didn't end the Crimson Alliance's gruesome death. The CEO felt like a small weight had been lifted and he didn't feel like he was overwhelmed with massive panic. Now he felt _some_ panic, which was way better than being massively panicked. Things were looking up!

He stood up from his chair and walked around his desk to stand closer to the pair.

He thrust out his robotic hand for Troy to shake. He had always offered a handshake after sealing the deal as a symbolic display of trust. The former cult leader stared at his outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow. He shook his only free hand to indicate the whiskey glass. Rhys realized his little faux pas and sheepishly dropped his hand.

"To our success!" Rhys gamely recovered. He raised his glass a careful sip at his whiskey.

Troy hesitated. 

"To not dying." He raised his glass. 

Troy knocked back the snifter in one go. Singularity-malt whiskey went down smooth. To his surprise, the Commander had also finished off her glass. 

"Calypso, you should wait outside. Rhys and I need to have a _little chat_ about something."

Ava had been waiting for this. She was going to pay Rhys back for the subterfuge and she couldn't wait.

She set the snifter on his desk with a loud clunk, the sound making Rhys jump jn place. There was a devilish grin painted on her face. She cracked her knuckles in anticipation. 

Rhys had similarly anticipated her vengeance, but he had been so caught up in work that he had forgotten. The CEO broke out into a light but noticeable sheen of sweat. He quickly shot Troy a pleading look, blinking rapidly at the man. It was code for help. He had the _'please don't leave me alone in a room with her'_ kind of look.

Troy was obviously unmoved. He gave him a bored look. Rhys looked terrified at the prospect of being alone with the Commander. 

"You're on your own, Strongfork. Can't defy the Commander's orders." Troy said with a nonchalant shrug. He turned to the side to hide the grin. 

"Cool. 'Scuse us.” Ava said. The smaller Siren loudly cracked her knuckles. She walked slowly past Troy and advanced on the CEO. 

"W-wait!" Rhys cried out, quickly fleeing behind the safety of his lavish chair. He peeked out over the back of the seat with fear in his eyes.

To be honest, Troy wanted to stick around and watch the show unfold. Watching the CEO get put in his place by the pint-sized Commander would have been fucking _hilarious_. 

That grin she had became wider and little more demonic. There were shades of Tyreen in that smile that it made Troy feel just a tad uneasy. 

"Rhys." Her voice was falsely sweet. "If you _ever_ pull that shit again..." 

_On second thought. _

He spun on his heels and walked towards the door. 

There was something in that voice that made him walk a little faster towards the exit. Whatever was going to happen, perhaps it wasn't in his best interest not to know. Troy left the CEO's office and waited in the reception lounge, staring somewhat apprehensively at the door. 

There was a beat of silence, followed by a scuffle. The was some shrieking that followed was unnaturally high. 

"Ah. AH! AGH! Wah! Waaaaugh--- no, no, nonono, NOOO!" 

They didn’t belong to the Commander. The noises of Strongfork's obvious anguish bought just a slight chill to Troy’s spine. He stared somewhat apprenhensively at the door.

Those awful noises from the office had finally stopped. A few minutes later, Ava had emerged from his office. She adjusted her hood scarf, looking much calmer than before. 

“Whew!” She let out a small chuckle.

_Whew? That was it? What the fuck?_

“What did you _do_ to him?” Troy couldn't help but question.

A wicked gleam of satisfaction was in her eyes.

“Let’s just say that was a little payback.” She meanly smirked over her shoulder at the door. Shortly afterwards, Rhys exited his office as well. He didn’t look physically harmed, but he was twitching.

Rather _unnaturally._

Troy slowly crooked an eyebrow at their exchange.

“Y-you took my..." 

“Ratch.” Ava deadpanned.

Rhys let out a high-pitched squeak and started to violently shiver. Now, Troy was itching with curiosity. 

She slipped something into her pockets. From Troy's vantage point, it looked like she snatched the bottle of whiskey. Why the _hell_ she would take it was beyond him.

"See ya 'round, Rhys. Make sure you have that data ready." Ava grinned at him, waggling her fingers in farewell. 

They had left Rhys’ office, then Fast Traveled back onto the bridge of Sanctuary. Ava sagged against the hyperspace terminal in apparent exhaustion, leaning back on it as she let her head droop back. She was still recovering from that strange illness. 

Sometimes, dealing with Rhys was like dealing with an angry bullymong dentist who performed a root canal. Without the benefit of an anesthetic. Their meeting had left her feeling more exhausted than she initially thought.

Her back arched, chest thrust out. Her hands were splayed back behind her for support as she crossed one ankle over the other. The hood fell down around her shoulders, exposing her longer hair. 

"I fucking hate paperwork..." Ava groused, rubbing the back of her Siren tattooed hand across her eyes. The movement had caused her shirt to lift slightly. Like all Sirens, she wore form fitting clothing that exposed the bottom part of her midriff. He could see the hint of Siren tattoos on her left hip. Troy realized that he had been gawking and quickly tore his eyes away from the sight. 

Awkward. 

A beat of silence passed between them. Troy regarded his new detainer with some unease. He stood there, struggling to find something civil to say. He wasn't the best at small talk. Hell, he wasn't the best at any kind of talk, unless it involved barking orders at some mouthbreather or straight up insulting them. 

”So..." He started conversationally, leaning against the console.

“Guess I’m a guard dog now."

Was that how conversations went? 

The Commander her ankles and stood up from the console, attention solely on him as she coolly regarded him. She looked at him, a small_ 'hmph'_ forced out through her nostrils. 

“Funny, you say 'guard dog', I see a rat." Ava said with a toss of her head. Troy rolled his eyes impatiently. 

"Again with the rat jokes? C'mon, Commander you can do better than that." He tried to joke, obviously exasperated. She didn't share his sense of humor. Obviously. Instead, she angrily turned on him. The cool attitude she possessed seconds before disappated in a heartbeat. 

"Let's get this straight. We're not friends. We're not even allies." There was a threatening tone to her low voice. She shoved the hood over her head and glared at him. 

_Don't you dare try to get familiar with me._ Her eyes seemed to say.

"You’re only alive because Rhys found a _use_ for you.” She emphasized.

"I'm going along with it because I wanna end this shitshow."

This conversation suddenly reminded him of the last one he had with Tyreen, before she had tried to dust him.

_Remember, bro. You’re only alive because I allowed it._

The tall man felt that same angry twist in his gut again. Troy’s face darkened in anger, trembling on the spot. 

"You know _what_? Forget I said anything." He said through clenched teeth. He resisted the urge to verbally fire off. It'd probably earn him a zap for his troubles. She shot him a terse nod in response.

"I'll send word once I get that data from Rhys. You... just stay in your room until I need you."

She walked to the bridge's exit and paused at the door. 

"Thanks for saving me on Eden-6, by the way." She said, not facing him. She abruptly left and slammed her fist on the console, closing the bay door before he could reply with a simple "you're welcome."

Troy stared at the door. 

God, she flipped moods on a fucking _dime_. If she wasn't filled with seething, boiling hatred at his existence, then it was frosty indifference. Her mood swings were worse than Tyreen's and far less predictable.

Troy let out an explosively angry breath he didn't know he had been holding and pinched the bridge of his nose feeling another fucking headache come on. _Yup_. She was was a stubborn one all right. Working with her wouldn't be easy. Dealing with ranting psychos was child's play than dealing with the Commander's tempestuous attitude. How in sweet merciful fuck was he going to deal with her?

_Just remember that you're going to be free afterall of this_. His dumb voice of conscience consoled him. 

Troy pulled at his face. 

_I need to focus on surviving first. _He told the voice. 

Nothing in his life had ever been easy. 

Rhys had the best intentions, really. But the guy really needed to think some things through. For example, who in the right mind would appoint an emotionally-charged, volatile teenaged girl to be the detainer of her mentor’s murderer?

There was no way it was going to end poorly. Nope, not at all. 

Fuckity fuck.

All he knew was that the Commander hated him. 

There was a strategy to this. If he could form a cult with billions of people, he could work with her civilly. Maybe, just maybe, his stay on Sanctuary could be more tolerable. More pleasant, if he could somehow manage to get into the Commander's good graces. 

He could only think of one person to turn to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has reached 60k words! I finally got my new phone. I was in a mad rush to submit it. Once again, I am SO sorry about the delay.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. 
> 
> As always, don't forget to
> 
> l i k e 
> 
> f o l l o w 
> 
> &
> 
> o b e y
> 
> Your feedback is always appreciated!


	15. Quiet Life

**Quiet Life - Japan**

Here we are stranded  
Somehow it seems the same beware  
Here comes the quiet life again

* * *

**YEARS AGO**

"Maya! It has happened again! We need someone to keep watch." Brother Mendel lamentfully groaned. He had met Maya in the library to let her know about it. 

"No kidding." Maya dryly replied. She closed her Eridian book and placed it back on the shelf.

"If I ever catch that thief, I shall hang them by their ankles until they give back my flask, oath of non-violence be damned!" He cursed.  
  
They were on their way to the storehouses. Brother Mendel was regaling Maya with a tale she only halfway paid attention to. 

"My favorite flask, it is missing!" 

Maya rolled her eyes. She didn't bother pointing out to the abbot that material possessions were generally frowned upon in the Order. Then again, with a planet as... _rustic_ as Athenas, the monks should take whatever vices they could get. 

It wasn't just Brother Mendel's flask, however. Other monks had complained about misplacing their personal effects. Sister Raquel had bemoaned the loss of her pants. Brother Candor had lost his glasses. Cutlery from the abbey had been missing, too. The monks had little in terms of material possessions. The loss of something innocuous, even a pair of socks, was considered major. 

For the past few weeks, that was all the monks talked about. If something happened, they always went to Maya, what with her being the planet's protector and all. The Siren started to find their chatter slightly grating. At first, Maya was indifferent. The monks should have kept a closer eye on their belongings. After the second week of constant nagging, she finally caved and helped them out.

She and Brother Mendel peered inside the grain storehouse where the Order kept the majority of their food. Someone had managed to sneak in and steal a small sack of rice for themselves. They were gettng bolder. 

Athenas was a humble planet. Despite its relative isolation, the Order of the Storm had kept its small populace well-fed by sending merchant ships out to sell its wares. The aptly-named "storm brew," a potent mix of fermented grains and and twice-pickled Ratch livers, as well as the vividly dyed silks made from ratch cocoons, were the choice exports that kept the Order's coffers decently full. They hadn't sent out their ships often, but when they did, they came back their ship wares gone and with their wallets fuller.

Maya suspected that someone had snuck aboard the merchant ships on the trip back to Athenas a few weeks ago. It was around that time that the monks' possessions were mysteriously displaced. 

It wasn't a coincidence.

Maya concluded that there had been a stowaway on the ship. And now they had taken residence amongst the monks, causing mischief. 

Athenas was a peaceful planet. Dull, if she were honest, but she was thankful for the quiet life nonetheless. Even after her short tenure on Pandora, Athenas had only begun to prosper after the death of Brother Sophis, the man responsible for the Order's corruption. The monks had welcomed back Maya with open arms, over looking her act of murder in favor of a more enlightened, more peaceful Athenas.

If his death brought prosperity upon Athenas, then perhaps it was the divine will of the Six Storms they said. 

Even after the excitement of Pandora, it had also been traumatizing... especially after witnessing the treatment of two of her own spiritual sisters. Her experience on the desert planet only prompted her quick return back home. She needed to learn more about her own abilities as well as understand ghe mysteries of transference. Maybe she could find a way to unite them. If any more Sirens needed protection, Maya was there to ensure that they would grow up safely on Athenas. 

There would be no one to exploit them. She would personally see to it that no one would be like that bastard, Brother Sophis. Or Handsome Jack. 

Her only regret was that she couldn't bring along Krieg. She just wasn't sure how the Order would receive him. But she would bring him here one day. 

She doubted anyone that would steal a pair of pants was malevolent enough to overtake a planet. Given the items that were stolen, they were only trying to survive. Whoever this person was, they were slippery. The Siren should have caught them by now. No matter, Maya resolved to keep a closer ear to the ground and track this mysterious vistor's movements. 

If anything, this was a great way to pass the time. 

Several nights passed since the flask incident. Within that time, several more things had been missing, some weapons and ammo had been missing. She hoped that the thieves wouldn't snoop around the library, seeing as it housed invaluable Eridian knowledge.

Her worst fears were confirmed.

The door to the library was slightly ajar. The door had been lockpicked open. Maya was immediately on alert. She slipped through the door, careful not to let the heavy door creak. Her Siren tattoos softly glowed in the relative darkness of the library, illuminating some of the shelves.

She carefully crept through the shelves, closely on the lookout for the intruder. It was then that she saw it. A single beam of moonlight filtered into the overhead skylight window, illuminating the shadowy figure just a few feet on front of her. 

A small figure was crouching low over the bookshelves. The thief had pulled one of the tomes from the shelf. Even in the moonlight, Maya recognized her book of Siren techniques in the kid's hands. 

In her haste, Maya had knocked over a stack of books, sending them tumbling to the floor. The noise made the figure look up in alarm. 

Damn, she shouldn't have been so careless!

Maya couldn't tell who the person was a large hood obscuring their face. All she did know was that the figure was that of child's, maybe a young teenager.

_"Hey!"_ Maya barked. 

They quickly jammed the book into their bag, then shot past Maya in a blue-colored blur, tearing out through the library's entrance. Maya blinked in shock. For someone so small, they were _quick_. The Siren gave chase, but the figure had mysteriously disappeared.

Even with Maya's Spartan athleticism, it was hard keep up with someone who had adrenaline hardwired into them, fueling their survival. They ran like a frantic ratchling avoiding sunlight. 

Okay. Maya grit her teeth as she pulled out her gun.

_Now_ it was personal!

It took several hours to track them. With every passing minute, Maya's irritation only grew. How was the hell were they able to evade a highly trained fighter in a place so small? She had re-searched the archives, the graveyard, and the market square. After Maya the rang bell of alarm, the monks had joined in her frantic search for the thief. Maya had to give them that; they were good at making themselves scarce. 

Maya was out by the docks, on the verge of losing her patience. She was met with a rather oblivious looking Brother Mendel. 

"Oh! Have you found the thief, Maya?" Brother Mendel politely inquired. 

"Not yet, Brother Mendel." Maya resisted ths urge to snap at him. Where was he when they were trying to catch the thief? Then again, the abbot looked like he had a couple of pints of Storm brew for himself.

"Whoever they are, they're pretty wily." 

Brother Mendel nodded. 

"Well, I sincerely hope you can apprehend the thief... we are shipping out the storm brew soon!" 

The monk's statement gave Maya pause. It should have been obvious. _Of course. _

"Thanks, Brother Mendel!" Maya dashed away before the confused monk could reply.

There was only one place they were going to head towards. There was only one other place this mysterious visitor was headed. Another trade ship was on its course towards Promethea, so naturally, they would use it to escape. There was no way in hell she was going to let the thief make out with her book. 

The Siren wisely entered from the cockpit and carefully made her way down to the cargo hold. This time, she vowed, she **would** catch them. 

For once, she managed to sneak up on them. From her vantage point, the small figure had snuck into the opened cargo door and was cautiously peering out over the crates. It was time to find out once and for all who they were.

"Hey, kid." Maya casually remarked. The thief whipped their head around, eyes meeting. The abrupt movement made the hood fall down. Maya finally saw that the thief was a girl. She looked no older than twelve or thirteen.

Her gray eyes were wide with shock; she was rooted to the spot in surprise. She seemed to recognize the Siren. Maya gave her an amused half-smirk.

The thief didn't stay surprised for long.

"Gah! Hermes!" She yelled out as loud as she could. Maya quirked an eyebrow.

"Who's Herm--"  
  
Within seconds, Maya heard an angry hiss. As she turned to look up, gun out, something small and angry collided with her face, with the intent to claw ever loving shit out of it.

As Maya wrestled with the spitting, pissed-off creature, the girl darted past her and dove out of her sights. 

"Dammit! _Son of a--"_ Maya phaselocked the little bastard and tossed it as hard as she could out of the cargo bay doors. The creature, being so small and light, had merely landed on its forepaws and skittered away into the night. Maya stormed out of the ship, righteously pissed, her face was smarting from the scratches.

Thankfully, Maya had kept up this time. In the span of several heart pounding minutes, she gave chase to the girl throughout the town square, until they reached the cliffs just near the graveyard.The terrain was uneven and unpredictable. There was a particular sharp dip in the path before leadinh to a near vertical drop. However, if one reached a certain elevation, they wouldn't see it unless they knew it was there.

She was going to hurtle towards her death.

"Wait, kiddo!" Maya yelled out. "Stop!"

The girl, obviously panicked, hadn't been looking where she had been going. She had been looking over her shoulder instead. She ran into the the gap and right off the ledge. Her small figure almost fluttered off the cliff. 

Almost.

Maya had reacted in time. She threw her hand out, enveloping her in the phaselock bubble. The girl was finally caught. Maya let out a breath she realized she had been holding. 

As the girl was suspended in midair, the Siren had seriously considered pitching her as hard as possible, out to the sharp rocks below... However, she wasn't that heartless. Maya let out a small sigh. She pulled in her hand, pulling the girl towards her.

Shock was written across the girl's face as she was floated over to solid ground.

"Gotcha." 

The girl shot to her feer and tried to bolt, only for Maya to grab her by the elbow. She yanked the thief close to her, forcing her wrist behind her back. The other arm went around her neck, putting her down in a one-armed headlock. This time, she wasn't going anywhere. The blue haired girl screamed, trying to pry herself out of Maya's hold. Just because Maya saved her life, she wasn't going to go easy on the kid. 

"AHH! Screw you! Lemme go!" The kid snarled, trying to free herself out of the Siren's grasp. She beat her fist against the older woman's forearms. Her small, weak hands were ineffective against the experienced fighter's iron grip. 

"Calm down. You're only going to hurt yourself." Maya boredly told the girl.

The girl tried to headbutt her in response. Maya rolled her eyes. She bent the girl's wrist and she yowled out loud in pain.

"You **BITCH!" **The girl screamed, wriggling hard against her grasp. Maya resisted the urge to twist her arm harder. It'd probably break.

The Siren had practically dragged her over to the old jail cells, the girl screaming all the while. For someone so small, she sure put up one hell of a fight. 

The jail cell was a simple affair. A heavy wooden door with a slat, some straw for bedding and not much else. The Siren kicked open the door, then roughly threw the girl inside. She was so light, she nearly flew across the room and landed in the itchy straw bedding. Small bits of straw flew upwards.

"Stay here." The woman firmly commanded. Before the girl could object, Maya shut the door in her face and slid the wooden slat down, locking her inside. 

"Hey! HEY! Let me **OUT!"** The girl screamed. She angrily pounded against the heavy wooden door. This time, she wasn't going anywhere.

Maya let out a long suffering sigh, lightly rubbing her temples to stave off the impending headache. She didn't.. dislike kids. But this one embodied everything she didn't like about children. Maya had thought it best to avoid her for several hours.

Maya did some breathing exercises, resisting the urge to toss the little scamp off of a cliff. She needed to clean her face off and fetch some of the healing paste for her face. She gingerly touched the sides of her face where the scratches were deepest. That little bastard got her pretty good. 

Morning came, and Maya appeared outside of her jail cell. She carried a bucket of hearty rice porridge in one hand and a bowl in the other. She unbolted the door with her powers and carefully made her way inside. 

The girl had jolted awake from the sound of the wooden opening. Upon seeing the woman, she pressed herself against a corner of the cell. Maya finally got a good look at her. Gray eyes, uncommonly blue hair...

The girl pulled up her hood and glared right back at her. Maya could still see her eyes, guarded and intense.

Her eyes went past woman's shoulder, looking for a way out. Maya followed her eye movement and closed the door, just in case. She seemed to only relax marginally when she spotted the bucket in Maya's hand. 

Maya could hear her stomach grumbling in protest.

"Hey, kid." The woman greeted, giving the small girl a once over. Even with the baggy clothing covering her thin frame, she looked frail. Starved. Maya couldn't help but wonder what this girl went through and felt a little pity. She ladled some porridge into the bowl. 

"Here you go." 

Maya gently set the bowl down on the ground as the girl warily watched her. The woman made a gesture with her hand, giving her the go-ahead.

"I imagine you haven't had anything decent to eat for a while." She indicated with a small incline of her head. 

The girl nervously edged towards the bowl and quickly snatched it up. She retreated to the wall corner and nearly wolfed down the hot porridge. Her bites were quick but measured, knowing that if she ate too quickly, she her stomach would rebel. She was still half-glaring at Maya as she ate, like some cautious scavenger. She finished it off in seconds. 

"What's your name?" 

The woman was met with frosty silence. The thief's eyes were shifty as she looked off to the side, then rubbed at the back of her neck. 

"I hate to keep calling you 'Thief' or 'girl'." Maya partly joked at she leaned against the wall. 

It took her a full minute before she finally answered. 

"Ava." She answered. Maya nodded.

"Well, Ava. How'd you get here?"

The girl was silent, but she looked meaningfully at her empty bowl. Maya sighed and got the hint. The Siren ladled in a more generous portion this time and handed it off to her. 

"I hitched a ride here." The girl finally admitted between spoonfuls of food. The silence was occasionally broken by the sound of a wooden spoon scraping and clattering into a bowl. The food wasn't anything special, just rice that had been rarified with water and seasoned with a some amount of salt. Yet, to the girl, it was probably the best thing had in a long while. 

Ava set down the bowl and crossed her arms, falling silent again.

"A 'thank you' would be nice." Maya replied with a smirk. She changed positions and leaned against the door, crossing her own arms in response.

Ava didn't acknowledge her comment. She looked like she was suddenly overcome with nervousness. Though she avoided eye contact with the Siren, her eyes kept darting to Maya's arm, looking at them at awe. 

"Interested?" 

"Where'd you get those cool tattoos?" She suddenly blurted out. "They look the same that I saw from that... book."

The Siren quirked an eyebrow. She was slightly impressed the girl made that connection. 

Maya chuckled, holding her arm out. "I've had them for as long as I can remember." 

The girl scooted closer to her, looking almost enviously at them. 

"Wait... was that how you were able to do that bubble-thingy?"

It was interesting how she made yet another astute connection. 

"Yes and no." Maya responded, tilting her forearm to examine the intricate patterns in her skin. Sometimes, she'd forgotten that they were there.

"They're more indicative of my powers."

"Powers? Wait, does that mean..." The girl inquired, examining her tattoos just a little closer.

"I'm a Siren." Maya said with a cool shrug. 

The girl's eyes widened to saucers. They had a glimmer of child-like innocence and wonder. 

"Wait, so are you like... the Firehawk?" 

"Yeah. I knew Lilith back on Pandora." The woman casually commented. 

The floodgates had opened. Whatever cold indifference Ava had treated Maya with had disappeared into the ether. 

"Oh my god! I always saw the stories on ECHOCast, but I thought were fake! I can't believe it. But Lilith is, like, _so_ freakin' cool! I can't believe I'm looking at another Siren!" She quickly gushed. 

Maya was taken aback by her sudden change in attitude. The girl was spouting things off in a rush that it made her head spin.

Before she knew it, Ava had opened up.   
She talked about how she got separated from her family, to finally landing on Athenas, of all places. The more Ava talked, the more Maya became intrigued. A few hours had passed. They had been so immersed in conversation that Maya missed the third hourly bell of peace. 

"How'd you get separated from your family?" Maya asked softly. 

"Back when I was on my home planet, Dahl was fighting with Vladof. I tried to steal some medicine for my mom... She was sick and I thought... well..." 

Ava went quiet, hugging her knees close to her chest, face downcast. She looked like she swallowed a down a painful lump. Her eyes watered, but she didn't cry. She quickly dashed away her tears with the back of her dirty hand. She didn't like being vulnerable, though Maya couldn't blame her.

"I've been alone for nearly three and a half-years." She finally admitted. 

That long? Damn. Maya didn't know what it was like to be alone. She had always grown up around the monks. Even when Brother Sophis tried to bitterly isolate her from the rest of monks, she had still formed a close relationship with Brother Mendel, a man she considered her father. She even forged new friendships with the Vault Hunters on Pandora. 

And yet this girl had no one. 

The Siren hesitated. She slid down next to her and consolingly patted her shoulder. Ava looked grateful for the contact. The two sat in awkward silence, before Maya continued on.

"So, Ava... What made you wanna take my book?" She moved to a lighter subject. She was sure the girl would appreciate it.

Ava shrugged. She looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs together. 

"I dunno... I felt drawn to it, I guess?"

"Huh. Why's that?" 

"It's gonna sound stupid... But I felt like I just wanted to see what was inside." She confessed. 

"Why?" 

"It was like... it was calling to me." Ava sheepishly admitted.

Maya was getting more and more intrigued with this girl. To think, she had seriously considered tossing this little blue-haired nuisance off of a cliff. This girl, she sensed, had potential.

She couldn't help but admire her. She had fended for herself, shown that she was resourceful, and quick-thinking. 

What else could she be capable of? Maya wondered. 

An idea was forming. 

Maya had never considered her powers a blessing. Her childhood had been a harsh reminder of that. 

If being on Pandora taught her anything, a Siren living to old age wasn't guaranteed. Despite her seemingly invulnerable reputation, she felt far removed from it. There were always scenarios. There could always be another Brother Sophis. Another Handsome Jack. Maya wasn't old, but she wasn't exactly young either. 

The girl had a "it" serious factor she sensed. Maybe it was time to consider passing on her knowledge someone else. 

Maybe it was fate?

"You want to have tattoos like these?" Maya asked with a smile. 

The girl looked up, eyes wide. 

"R-really? Hell yeah!" 

Maya laughed. The girl frank and loud. She was a breath of fresh air amongst the old monks in the order. 

"So, what I do? Can I train to get them? Do I go through some super-secret ritual that Sirens have?" She was practically bouncing with excitement. 

"Well, Ava... How would you feel about being my apprentice?" 

"W-wai... For--for real? I... me?" She stuttered, almost speechless. There was a spark of hope glimmering in her large gray eyes. 

"Is there anyone else around here?" Maya asked with a cocked eyebrow and a half-smirk. Ava looked stunned.

"I... I... _Hell yeah!" _

Maya stood up and Ava eagerly followed suit.

"Well, what are we waiting for? I'm ready to learn!" 

Maya chuckled and held out a hand to slow her.

"Not so fast there, kid. We'll need to get you cleaned up and get some more food in you. Buuut, first thing's first." Maya drawled. 

She hooked a hand around the strap of her backpack. She opened it and upended the contents onto the ground. Silverware, socks, a pair of glasses, and Brother Mendel's flask appeared amongst the small pile of mopped goods. The woman calmly picked her Eridian book off of the ground and dusted it off. 

"You have to return the things you stole. _And_ apologize to the monks." Her voice was firm, eyes hard as they narrowed into slits.

"Oh, and we're gonna have to find your little pet, too."

Ava blanched. She shrunk under the older woman's glare.

"Crap." She said in a small voice. She looked guilty that she got caught.

Maya sighed and shook her head. She was going to have to break her new apprentice of that habit. 

So much for the quiet life.

\---

  
**NOW**

Like everything else, he began to plan.

This shouldn't be hard. 

Propaganda and megamedia conglomerate aside, he was a skilled strategist. He always knew how to read people and exploit their weaknesses to the fullest extent. If he could unite the most violent, bloodthirsty bandit clans and schmooze his way into corporate deals, exactly just how hard could this be? 

Well, for one. He knew next to nothing about the Commander. Troy had always aggressively researched his enemies to get an edge, and yet he knew next to nothing about her. Troy hated unknowns. And she was a huge unknown.

But it was simple. Right? _Right_. He could do this. 

If he wanted his stay with the Raiders to be tolerable, he had to find out how to curry favor with the Commander. The first and most obvious problem was, well, she hated his fucking guts. He never thought he could feel tangible hatred emanating off of a single human being. That was, if she wasn't treating him like a piece of meat. 

_We're not friends. We're not even allies. The only reason why Rhys kept you around was because he found a **use** for you. _

Even so, if there was some way for him to get her to un-hate him, that would be fucking grand. Not that he wasn't bothered or anything by her lack of trust. Nope. Eden-3 didn't count, he guessed. 

This was all a strategic ploy. Strictly for his benefit. He could care less about her. 

_You're making this complicated, y'know._ The voice told him with a disapproving frown. _All you have to do is ask. _

Troy ignored his dumb, inner conscience. The Commander looked like she would sooner see him ripped apart by a pack of vicious skags, then ever become buddies.

This should have been easy. _No, wait_. He firmly corrected himself. This should be easy.

He was brimming with indecision. He paced back and forth, staring at the medical bay doors. He tried to psyche himself up, successfully ignoring the hostile glares from the other red shirts in his general vicinity. 

Tannis was the only person to ask about the Commander's background. He wasn't going to ask the other Vault Hunters, probably because they were going to mutilate him on the spot. However, he knew the eccentric scientist wasn't willing to divulge such information for free.

Which was why he was hesistant to enter her domain.

He hated this fucking place. For someone who was unnaturally pain tolerant, Troy fucking hated needles. And the Eridian scientist was far from lacking. He knew the moment he'd set foot inside of that lab for information, she would demand his plasma. That crazy doctor always wanted to take something from him; Troy was convinced that she was using his blood for nefarious purposes. He was sure the moment he wanted some information, she was going to turn around and demand something in return. Conversely she could drug him to high hell and drain him of his fluids.

He wondered what he could use in his favor, secretly agonizing over what he could use as a possible bribe. Money obviously wasn't of any value to the scientist. When Troy bargained, he always had something to offer. He looked down at his necklaces. 

_Fuck that. _

If it really went down to it, he guessed he could offer up a kidney. 

He took a fortifying breath and bravely ventured into the lab. Into the lair of mad scientist he went, where he was sure he would meet his doom. 

"Yo, science lady." Troy obnoxiously called out. He hoped she wasn't napping in that dead Saurian again. From what little time he spent with her, Tannis in a good mood meant he was going to get stuck extra hard.

"Tannis--" 

"Honestly, would it kill you to knock, you slack- jawed cretin?!" 

Lo and behold, the Siren scientist angrily appeared out from the medical dividers, no weird saurian sleeping bag this time. And she was thankfully blood free. Troy was about to a breathe out a big sigh of relief. 

However...

Her pale faced was flushed, eyes somewhat shifty as she glared at her uninvited guest, looking irate. She looked distinctly rumpled, which was odd because she didn't look the type. In her hand was her vibrating electric toothbrush. Tannis let out a slight cough and shut it off, becoming blissfully silent. The woman rebuttoned her shirt and adjusted her vest. 

Troy felt the horror etch across his face as he pieced two-and-together. He shut that shit down, mentally blocked it out, and shoved it to the furthest reccesses of his mind to preserve his sanity. It didn't matter anways. The scientist willingly volunteered that information, filling out the blanks for him. 

"So--"

"I hope you have a good reason for interrupting us. Greb and I were in a heated argument about Eridian artifacts and before we knew it, it turned to a passionate encounter--" 

Troy held up his only hand to silence her. He looked slightly nauseated. 

"Whatever you're going to say, just... **DON'T. PLEASE**." He stressed, clapping his hand over his ear. This was just as gross as hearing his dad regale him with tales of 'beating the monster' and just as traumatizing.

"--As I was saying. Our relationship is no longer that of scientist and lab assistant. We have physically affirmed our relationship and are now dating!" Tannis continued, oblivious of his desperate plea. Her brow furrowed as her eyes slid into a disapproving glare.

"And you, Troy, is what the youth call a _cockblock_." The man threw a hand over his face and let out a noise of distress. 

"Goddammit, what the _fuck_. Seriously? TMI!"

Troy never wanted to puke so badly in his life. He plopped down in the too small chair, forcing him to stretch out on it.

What did he do to deserve this?

"Since you've rudely invited yourself into my lab, what brings you here? Have you come to me for a query?" Tannis straightened out her shirt and put her new lover on its stand charger, giving it a beaming smile. Seeing the glow on Tannis was...ugh.

He'd take a bloodied Tannis over that any day.

Troy recovered from his bout of nausea, remembering the importance of his mission.  
His answer came to him in the form of his hand. His eyes flicked down to his red Siren tattoos.

Of course. He didn't mention the incident on Eden-3. That could be beneficial. Hell, if Tannis was half the Eridian expert like claimed she was, then maybe she could also make sense of his wonky Siren genetics. He could work it into the next topic of conversation. 

"Well... something's been bugging me... About me." He clarified. "I just wanted to know if you could make sense of it." 

"Ahh, yes. I was always curious about the state of your Siren powers. But alas, I have been far more invested in retrieving your samples to actually gather data on your background." 

"Huh. What did the results come back with?" He had been curious about that, actually. He was pretty sure the woman was using it as an excuse to torture him. Tannis shrugged. She pulled a chair and sat across from him.

"So far, the results had come back inconclusive. If I had more precise lab equipment, I could have better results." She sighed regrettably.

"Inconclusive? Is that why you kept sticking me?" He asked irritably. Tannis shrugged again, looking downright dismissive. 

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're DNA is like a top-heavy skyscraper made of tiny building blocks. Any result to extract a tangible strand causes the rest of the DNA to collapse in itself. It's frustrating and fascinating all at once!" 

She looked excited at the aspect of sucking out his bone marrow again. 

"Huh." Troy made a mental note to purchase better lab equipment for Tannis. He would prefer not to sucked dry out of all his life essence before his tenure with the Raiders was over.

"Well, I managed to get an interesting result. But..." She trailed off thoughtfully. 

"But what?" Troy inquired, clearly curious. 

"I will share the results once I gather more conclusive data." Tannis dismissively replied.

"Anyways...Explain to me the nature of your condition. Start from as early as you can remember until you came aboard Sanctuary." She sat across him and pulled out her ECHO, presumably to record their conversation.

He explained in great detail how for the majority of his life that he had been sickly. He explained how to Tannis how he needed Tyreen to survive and how he needed to periodically leech off of her. And how most of his ailments had lessened when he leeched off of Maya. That was too uncomfortable to talk about that for long, feeling that same deep-seated shame. 

Troy also had gone into detail on his time on Promethea. He explained how he felt like he was going to die before he had mysteriously gotten better. How he had physically improved and how he was in much better shape.

Tannis intently leaned in. For once, she seemed genuinely engaged and not at all like she was looking at him like a lab specimen to dissect. She rapidly jotted down notes on her ECHO as Troy divulged more information. 

It was probably a solid hour before he was finished. 

"And that's it." Troy finished. 

"I can work with that!" Tannis nodded, looking pleased as punch as she finished off her notes. 

"Which leads me to the next thing. I think this strange shit... its being caused by the Commander." 

Tannis looked mightily intrigued. 

"Do go on." She said.

"I don't know how to explain it, but... it's like opposing magnets." 

"Something happened between the Commander and me on Eden-3." 

Troy gave a summary of their time on Eden-6. He skimmed over the boring shit and got right to the part where they got to that small Vault.

"A reaction, you say? Can you tell me what happened?" Tannis leaned in had she absorbed this new development. 

"When I caught her, we opened the Vault when we landed on the wall."

"Did you feel any strange sensations upon touching her?" 

Troy blinked. Out of context, the question made him sound like some pervert. He shook his head and continued.

"I dunno..." He remembered his mother telling him that Sirens had felt innately connected to Eridian ruins. It was strange how he had felt it more accutely since being aboard Sanctuary. Sometimes, he felt uneasy. Other times, there was a strange buzzing in the back of his skull that he knew wasn't caused by the implant.

"It felt like a key fitting into a lock. A heartbeat?" He lamely explained. It seemed it was sufficient enough for Tannis.

"Interesting! I've always been curious about a Siren's connection to the Vaults. Lilith could always charge the Vault Keys, but it appears our powers could be used as a conduit to open smaller Vaults. That would save use the trouble of finding key fragments all over the six galaxies."

She jotted more notes down as she explained her theories. 

"This conversation has been rather illuminating, wouldn't you agree?" She beamed a rare smile at Troy. It was unsettling to see her so... happy.

"Yeah, sure." He murmured uneasily. "I was wondering... What can you tell me about the Commander?" 

Tannis looked somewhat suspiciously at Troy.

"Why are you curious to know about the Commander?" Tannis then shrugged and looked down to her notes. She looked as though she clearly lost interest in their petty rivalry. 

He was somewhat tempted to tell her. The man was contractually obligated to keep this secret. He could tell Tannis his plea bargain with ATLAS, but doing so could potentially violate his TOC. Troy opted for a subtler approach. 

"She's difficult to work with." He admitted, running a hand through his dark hair.

She's rude, aggressive, and moody. 

"'Cuz, well. You know why."

"That is hardly a sufficient reason." Tannis pointed out. "Everyone on the ship finds it difficult to work with her." 

No shit. He decided to cut straight to the matter.

"Look." He started impatiently. "If I can get in her good graces, she'll be more open to my suggestions. If she's more open to my suggestions, she'll be more cooperative to work with. We can find more Vaults. More Eridian Tech, more well, of everything." He waved his hand out to indicate the Eridian disk.

The Siren looked more intrigued. Her eyes were sparkling with that covetous gleam. 

"Since you have provided me with some rather elucidating information, I suppose I can tell you supply you with something to return the favor. " She finally replied.

Troy silently congratulated himself.

"So, what's her deal?" 

"Ava came on the ship with Maya over a year and a half ago."

As Tannis divulged Ava's background, Troy began to frown. So, she was from Athenas and was Maya's apprentice. Nothing much else. Personality-wise, she was stubborn, but was willing to stick out her neck for her teammates. He already knew this. Shit. He was going nowhere. 

It was only towards the end that Tannis had dropped a juicy tidbit. 

"She'd just gotten acclimated to the ship before Lilith--" 

The scientist had become silent. She froze on the spot, looking as though she had been struck. 

Troy was interested in her reaction. The Raider's missing leader had been bothering him since he had become a "crew member" for Sanctuary. He was sure first person who'd be gunning for him was Lilith. Between all the chaos on Sanctuary, he’s seen neither hide nor hair or her. 

"Tannis..." He asked slowly. "What exactly happened to the Firehawk?"

He was met with stony silence. Tannis packed away the rest of the samples and turned to Troy. There was something in her expression that Troy knew he had upset her. 

"Did she... retire or something?" He didn't want to say that she died. Tannis cleared her throat.

"I think I've acquired enough more than sufficient enough data. I'll see you when I require more use for you." Was her bland reply. 

"But--" 

"Please, do not come here unless I or the Commander instructs you otherwise."

For once, he was forced out of the lab. Tannis had somehow physically pushed him out, despite digging in his heels to stay. The doord shut and locked with a definitive click. He turned around and stared at the door, stunned. 

Once she was certain he wouldn't reenter, Tannis retreated to the back of her lab and stared up at the elaborate cork board. Countless pictures and references of Eridian runes and complex mathemical equations lined the board on pieces of paper varying in size. They were pinned in a haphazard circular pattern, with red strings were connected to eachother on thumbtacks, trying to make connections.

In the center was Lilith's picture. 

WHERE???

The big bold red letters underneath her friend's picture that she hastily penned in were an eyesore. And a reminder never to give up. 

Tannis let out a short sigh. It sounded heavy with exhaustion. Then she leaned against her desk. 

\---

Troy resigned himself to his room. His time on Sanctuary had consisted of terse waiting with a whole lot of nothing else in between. He counted down to the second. Twenty-one-thousand-six-hundred-ninety-four seconds had passed. Or, six hours, one minute, and four seconds. He had gotten better at conversions and needed something to occupy his headspace with. 

Even though he'd been unceremoniously shoved out of Tannis' lab, he did manage to get some decent info. 

So, Sirens were linked to Vaults, huh. Indeed the chat with Tannis had been enlightening. He started to understand his own unique condition a little more. He needed to milk more information out of her when he could. However, when it came to the Commander, he was firmly planted at square one.

His ECHO beeped. He unclipped it from his belt and looked at it. Speak of the devil. 

"Calypso, I got the data from Rhys. Come to the bridge." She shut off the comms before he could reply. He resisted the urge to groan. 

A few awkward minutes later, he was on the bridge, downloading all of the information onto his ECHO with an ancient cable setup, hooked into the hyperspace terminal. Five minutes? That was too damn long to be spending it alone with her. 

They spent it in uncomfortable silence. Ava leaned against the terminal. The download bar was inching towards the quarter mark at a snail's pace.

Halfway through the transfer, Troy decided to try his luck. 

“Commander, I’ve been meaning to ask... What happened to the Firehawk?”

If his earlier encounter with Tannis should have taught him anything, he shouldn't be asking such sensitive questions. Particularly where it concerned Lilith. Her eyes tightened and her spine went rigid. He knew by that expression that he crossed another one of those invisible lines that she set in the sand.

Ava looked off to the side. He hadn’t known. There was no way he could have, given his time in prison, but still, it angered her. Calypso's casual tone had set her off, as always. 

“She’s MIA.” Came her short reply. Her brusque tone discouraged him from asking anymore questions. Troy felt an eyebrow raise, far from feeling discouraged. Sirens didn’t stay missing for long. Rule of Six and all that. 

“Missing in action? _How_?”

She let out an angry grunt. 

"After your fancy little moon stunt on Pandora, Lilith had to prevent Elpis from destroying it." She further explained, looking out the window with narrowed eyes. 

"Before she disappeared, she entrusted Sanctuary to me."

The situation made much more sense to Troy. But the sudden shift in perspective was also horrific.

_Good god, what the fuck was the Firehawk thinking?_ She sharply rounded on him.

_Oh shit,_ he was thinking out loud, wasn't he? Anger was shining in her eyes. She was ready and primed for a fight.

"Whoa, okay. You know what? That-that came out wrong." He winced, holding up a single hand to placate her. 

She took several lancing steps towards the much taller man.

“I became the Commander after we killed your sister.” Came her short, terse reply. Those distinctive gray eyes were so cold, they were practically ice chips. 

Her tattoos were flaring brightly again, though she didn't notice or seem to care. Tannis had spoken of strange feelings and sensations. Troy felt that same threatening pulse shimmering through the air, the very same one where she tried to kill him. He took a cautious step back. Despite the openess of the bridge, The Commander closed in on him, clearly undaunted and unafraid. 

He was _not_ afraid of her. 

The notion of being scared of some fucking kid with a power complex was absurd. 

"Just remember, Calypso. One wrong move, one fuck up, and you’re done." 

The ship started to rattle ominously as she moved closer. _Oh shit._

He had thought they gotten over this, whatever the hell it was.

The moment he felt that strange, foreboding feeling passing between them, there was something holding him at bay. His instincts were telling him _stand down._ It was like she was forcing him to submit. 

Just as she was about to get closer, their ECHOs beeped in tandem, signifying the end of the download. Ava tore her face away from him, and the ominous shaking and rattling stopped. She walked to the terminal and angrily snatched up her ECHO off it, clipping it to her belt. 

"We'll talk about Hephaestus soon." She abruptly left, leaving him alone again. 

This time, Troy did groan. She was going to be the absolute death of him, _absolutely. _

He threw himself into the room and took a look at the schematics. He had gotten the numbers from Rhys and wanted to scream. A small perusal of the data had yielded some gut-clenching reactions, none of them good.

"Holy shit." He said, looking at the numbers. 

He did some quick number crunching in his head, then gave up. The numbers were overwhemingly in the enemies' favor. 

True to Strongfork's word, all the data with ATLAS' encounters with Maliwan and the COV had been painstakingly complied. He pressed the ECHO and a star map of the six galaxies digitized into view. Various clusters of green, orange, and red dots were in view, representing Maliwan, the COV, and ATLAS respectively. Over the course of a year, most skirmishes had either ended in withdrawal or slim victories. The Raiders had picked their battles carefully, picking off Maliwan forces that got too close to Promethea.

The clusters of red dots were closer to Promethea, the Crimson Alliance' home base. As it went further out, the losses were minimal, slowly coming in closer to Promethea. They were slowly getting boxed in. It was no wonder Rhys had to pull him out of prison.

He had a vague idea of what'd be would be getting into, but he wasn't aware of how bad it was. The news was only getting worse.

It was fucking two-fold problem. 

Maliwan armadas stationed at every galaxy, with COV cults stationed inbetween. The amount of coordination between a highly technologically advanced, militarized company and screaming, inane war-meat shouldn't have been possible. Troy had vastly underestimated their enemy. He didn't know where to start. Logically, taking on COV would be ideal, he had to get leads on this so called inner circle.

The Raiders were between a rock and a hard place. Either they were going to get killed by the COV, or crushed underfoot by Maliwan. 

The only safe harbors in the entirety of the known universe were Eden-6, Promethea, Hephaestus, Athenas, and suprisingly, Pandora.

Which led him to another issue. The people that he's working with weren't exactly in fighting form. 

If there’s one thing he noticed about Sanctuary, it's fucking chaotic. It wasn’t just the ship itself, but just how things are run. Short of the Vault Hunters, Sanctuary seems to be filled with _children_. There's people of various ages, sure, but the majority of them act like damn kids. Teenagers, in fact, and they don't look any older than the Commander. There was no structure. No solid forms of communication. The only driving force behind them were the Vault Hunters. Where there fuck were the soldiers, the mercenaries?

Tyreen ran a tighter ship with the bandit clans and half of them could barely cobble together a comprehensive sentence. 

With how unorderly things were run, it boggled his mind. Troy was convinced that the Crimson Raiders won last time by _sheer, dumb luck. _

The ship was full of _schmendricks_. 

Fuck, he was talking like his dad again.

The Commander was running back and forth like a headless skag. It’s like she was putting out fires, no matter how small. He witnessed one exchange day between the Commander and several of the older Raiders in the rec area. 

"Ah, Ava!" A man and a woman had practically cornered her in the hall. Troy surveyed the scene from a careful distance, peering around a corner so that he wasn't seen.

The Commander gave them a tight half-smirk. 

"It's Commander." She shortly replied, her tone clearly indicating annoyance. They didn't get the hint. He was curious to see how she would handle it. 

"Yeah, whatever." One woman answered with an air of dismissal. The smaller Siren bristled but didn't reply.

Before Troy could listen in, he was distracted by Hermes climbing up his pants leg. The little bugger had taken a sudden interest in his necklaces. He seemed like he too was also a klepto, like his master.

After a couple of seconds of trying to bat Hermes away, he became distracted. Although he had shoo'd the critter away, he couldn't hear the rest of the conversation. But he saw and heard the tail-end of it. 

"Don't worry about Hephaestus, sweetheart. Leave it to the adults!" The man replied with a braying laugh. He roughly clapped her on the shoulder and left. The Commander's hand closed in a tight fist, shaking on the spot. She angrily stalked away. Troy sneered at her retreating back. 

Watching that was _painful_. 

Ah. So seemed her crew didn't respect her. He felt immediately annoyed by her passiveness. It was embarassing. If he were in her shoes, he'd have them both killed for such blatant disrespect. He drag them by their ankles and demand satisfaction, before flaying them alive. 

Okay, well, he knew she wouldn't go that far, but she should have put these mouthy assholes in their place. Troy knew the problem of leadership. He had to admit, it took a whole lot of chutzpah to be a leader.

Shit.

But she was still an ineffective leader, with a bunch of kids following her. And they were squared off against a much stronger, more daunting foe.

Being dead was starting to sound more appealing.

Troy had resigned himself to his room yet again. He laid on his back on his sad, lumpy, undersized mattress and listlessly stared up at the ceiling in his room, idly chewing on a toothpick. Between pissing off everyone by existing and a general lack of trust amongst his new buddies, it was a long period of doing nothing.

He was growing frustrated. 

He worked out still. The muscle he was building was coming in admirably, even coming in on his right side. For once, he could wear a shirt and it didn't hang off his sad, starved frame. 

Troy had hated sitting around. He was going stir-crazy. His hand was itching to do something and that phantom limb sensation was acting up again, keeping him up at nights. 

He read the same book on Vault Hunters and whatever other reading materials he could find on board. He managed to snag a somed strange manual on Sanctuary-3. The wording in the manual was extremely technical, but he didn't mind it one bit. He tried to snatch a porn stash once. One cursory look at a magazine on the floor and he the pages were glued together. Between fearing for his life and the possibility of being torn to shreds, "stress relief" was low-priority.

He was starting to get angry and annoyed. His trademark temper wasn't as explosive as Tyreen's, but it could cause some major damage if it he didn't do something about it.

Being angry wasn't going to help him. He had Troy had to use this anger much more constructively if he had a snowball's chance in hell. Most of his anger was towards that fucking bitch of a Commander. She was going to doubt him? _Fine._ Then he'd have to work twice as hard to gain her favor. Troy escaped his room and set off to find something.

This would piss her off, but fuck, he needed to do something before he straight up murdered someone.

He got the idea near cargo bay. 

Troy had stolen some tools from the mechanics. Well, he didn't steal them, per se. They had abandoned them and never came back for them. They looked barely used. Once Troy had an idea in his head, Eridians forbid anything would stop him.   
  
Sanctuary was a shit tin-can floating in space. If there was one thing he noticed, this ship was a real piece of shit. A real, admirable hunk of junk, if he was being honest. 

Troy knew how to tinker with machines. He and his dad had spent time learning how to build things. While he didn’t know how to build a ship, he certainly knew his way around one. He was confident that he could do some basic repairs and skip out before anyone could catch him... or accuse him of sabotaging the ship. 

He had snuck some repairs into the ship when it had become lights out. He avoided the other crew members and began his work. The bearings for the coolant pipes in section 9B needed to be replaced, and the navigation circuitry for a console was in desperate need of re-soldering.

The tools he borrowed were inadeqaute for the job. He lacked a sufficient arm to get the job done in a timely manner. It was frustrating, yet oddly comforting, reminding him of his time on Nekrotafeyo. After what seemed like hours, he pulled away from the pipes and surveyed his work. It looked far better than what it initially had been. He nodded to himself, satisfied. He chucked the wrench back into the tool box and clicked it close.

Troy snuck back into his room, exhausted, and rolled into his mattress to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanons ahoy! I always imagined the scenario leading up Maya wanting to throw Ava off of a cliff. 
> 
> Your feedback is always appreciated!


	16. Mock Turtle's Song

For the third time today, Tannis had put aside the blasted Eridian artifact. If he wasn't such an invaluable trinket of scientific import, she would have vented him out of the ship.

And so she decided on the name Snub. It was apt name, and he fit the description perfectly. He was a stubborn, silent fellow. And like any rude bastard, he'd continually refused all attempts at conversation, even when the scientist had tried to affect an amicable air.

If all the serenading of Digby Vermouth and promises of wine and sultry conversation hadn't gotten him to talk, then she she would be forced to use her last resort - torture. Tannis just about lost all her patience in dealing with him. If he wasn't going to speak a peep in the next twenty four hours, she was going to banish him to an isolation chamber, subject him to the horrors of _modal jazz. _A worse fate than death, if she were honest. 

Putting Snub aside for now, she set about the far more interesting task of examining Troy's DNA strands.

Except that it wasn't calming at all.

It was exciting! And perplexing. And just a tad _infuriating._

Slowly but surely, Tannis was getting closer and closer to understanding the mystery of his unique condition. The specimens gathered from his genetic materials yielded interesting insights to the xenobiological field of study. She had carefully picked away at the plethora of samples, graciously and freely given to her from her new lab experiment-- erm, _patient,_ she firmly reminded herself.

If she went so disgusted by the idea, perhaps Troy could impart some other fluids of a _sexual_ nature as well. 

Troy's DNA was a gift. A gift rife with genetic impossibilities and inconsistencies. It was like a daunting complex puzzle with bizarre fitting pieces -- she'd only begun to understand its maddening intricacies, but she was excited at the prospect of solving it nonetheless. Tannis hadn't been possessed with an academic fervor not seen since her starting days as a scientist for Dahl. His condition, if her theories were correct, could change potentially everything she had learned about Sirens.

There was only one problem.

The only thing she feared, was the ensuing potential emotional blowout that would arise once she delivered the news. Troy would lose his composure, but Ava... She hadn't puzzled out how the young Commander would react. That was far more worrying, and far be it from the scientist to feel _worry_.

Perhaps Tannis could still convince the tempermental Commander to keep their visitor alive for longer. As filthy looking and unkempt as Troy Calypso appeared to be, she had grown rather fond of her little science project.

Troy's recent conversations had been illuminating, to say the least.

His last attempt to butter her up for information on the Commander had been abysmal and transparent at best, but it made her think. Everyone's trust in Troy was understandably low. It was in Tannis' best interests to reexamine her biases and make an effort to, _shudder_, befriend him. He would be amenable to volunteer much more information.

Afterall, his unique condition was tied to hers-

_You're getting distracted._ Greb reminded her from his charging stand. _Remember, back your numbers with data. No matter what, data what was what they needed to see._

"You are right, as always, Greb... _Data_. I need data!" She chuckled to herself. There wasn't any use getting worked up over unknowns.

The electric tooth brush buzzed in agreement, sharing her sentiment.

The most important thing was moving forward.

She rolled from her chair from one desk to the other when she felt a shock wave rock the ship. 

\----

The subconscious was a peculiar thing.

Troy had felt guilt. But over the years, the guilt had been covered by brazen impudence. The violence had started to become the norm, and he simply became numb to it. After all, the universe didn't allow for "soft" feelings.

For the longest time, he felt he was justified in his pursuit of godhood.

But deep down, he knew it was wrong.

What could he have done differently?

Although he had been successful in suppressing his guilt in every waking moment, it had always manifested in strange and ugly ways. One common way was his nightmares. For this reason, he despised sleep. He didn't think he could remember the last time he had a restful night, devoid of nightmares.

They slithered under the fold of sleep, leaving a lasting impression on his mind. They’d slip through his fingers like passing water. They were like memories he’d never wanted to remember, except he would forget the moment he woke. Troy would throw himself into his work, trying to exhaust himself, making himself so bone weary tired, so that he couldn't dream.

Drugs and erratic sleep schedules could only stave off his nightmares for so long, only mitigating the effects. He had to sleep eventually, forcing him to relive the horror again, and being on Promethea had brought the horrors back. Going through a hard detox on Promethea had only made the nightmares worse. He felt them much harder when he was sober. Or perhaps, they’d only been dulled when he was on drugs? 

This felt less of a nightmare. 

\---

The air felt cold, the kind of cold that seeped into his bones and left him chilled. Before he opened his eyes, Troy somehow knew he was on Pandora again. He could remember the sensation of desert’s nightly freezing temperatures prickling his skin, traveling down his spine. It was the first thing he distinctly felt when he and Tyreen had emerged from their parents' battered ship. It wasn’t something he’d forget. 

Troy forced his eyes open. He was bowed over, knees splayed apart in the desert’s soft sand. He blearily looked around. The landscape was in fact Pandora. The night was pitch black, with the pale moonlight of Elpis shining high ahead, capturing the sparkle of the bone white sand.

He hadn’t been on Pandora in what seemed like ages. It was that strange sensation of almost-thereness, the impression that he could feel everything and yet nothing at the same time.

He knew he was in a dream. But dreams were supposed to be nonsensical things, right? But there was something about this ethereal dreamscape stirring somewhere underneath his skin that made him uneasy. It was wrong; this place didn’t feel like Pandora. It wasn't Pandora. Elpis was never that close, even when he phaselocked it and honed it on to Pandora.

After all, there was no way, his rational mind argued, he had been on Sanctuary just hours ago and—

Very vaguely, he heard a voice singing. He could succinctly pick up snippets of the song.

“You can really have no notion of how delightful it will be—“

In the distance was a familiar figure, silhouetted against the impossibly large moon. Their back was turned to him, hands held high above their head as they reached out towards the moon, in an almost childlike fashion. 

Who was that? He pondered.

He didn't have to ponder for long.

The familiar coat. The stance...

He could see familiar cloud of ashy white hair shining like some ominous beacon in the moonlight and felt his heart momentarily stop.

_“—when they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea.”_

He knew that song. It was some whimsy, nonsensical song their mother taught them years ago when they were children. 

_“But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance - said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance." _

He fucking despised that song. It was the last song their mother taught them before she was...she was—

It only now occurred to him that he knew that singing. Tyreen was singing it. His sister always had great voice, a clear, pleasant timbre that was a stark contrast to her boisterous tone.

_"'What matters is how far we go?' His scaly friend replied,_

_There is another shore, you know, upon the other side._

_The further off from England, the nearer is to France—_

_Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance!"_

He started to sweat profusely. He fought the urge to yell out.

The voice became louder, the cadence becoming more faster and more distinct, more demented. 

_"Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?_

_Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, **won't you join the dance!”**_

It wasn't the nightly chill of Pandora that made him feel cold. It was an icy fear, a bone-deep dread that seized his innards, wanting to viciously claw its way out of his guts and onto the desert floor.

_Wake up._ He tried to tell himself.

The song continued ominously ringing in his ears. The louder it became, so too did his feeling of deep-seated dread grew. It was too grating, horrid,

Troy clapped a hand over one of his ears to silence that awful, horrible song. He tried to call out to her, to plead with her to stop, though no sound came out.

_Tyreen. What—_

She turned to face him, zeroing in like he was prey, trapped in her sights.

Suddenly, she was up close, so close that he could practically see the pores on her skin. She wasn’t just staring at him, it like she was glaring right through him. Troy scrabbled backwards as his sister advanced on him. She seized him, her deceptively small hands finding their way around his fragile neck. Troy let out a noise somewhere between a desperate choke and a gag. He couldn’t pry her off with his single, pathetic hand. She was far too strong, had always been much stronger than him.

Her face split open into a demented smile, a too wide grin showcasing a set of sharpened gleaming fangs. Her eyes were so open he could see whites of her eyes, the pupils in her pale blue eyes were tiny black pinpricks. She squeezed her fingers together, the pressure was building_, building, **building**_**,** the bones in his neck audibly creaking under the strain. Troy's vision was blurring, burning. He could feel the delicate veins rupture on his face, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

She was slowly crushing his neck.

”What’s the matter, Troy?” She asked, voice mocking. 

“Wanna join me on the _other side,_ bro?”

Tyreen was beckoning him to join her on the other side, whether he wanted to or not.

"Why can't you talk?" She stopped just at the precipice, pausing and waiting, giggling in almost child-like glee for his reply.

Predictably, he couldn't answer.

"Aah, I get it you're too _choked_ _up_ to reply!" She loudly cackled at her own joke. She didn't wait for his answer, anyways.

Tyreen was going to decide for him. She brought her hands together in one swift move.

There was a sickening crunch of bone and wet viscera as he somehow felt his flesh being forced out through the gaps in her fingers. Troy felt his head separate his spinal column and his vision went a dull red, abruptly turning upside down--

\---

Troy lurched up from his mattress with a start, waking up in cold sweat. He awoke with a sharp gasp, scrambling around in the darkness of his room in a blind panic. He was trying to reach for a gun that wasn't there. He was panting hard, every square inch of his body covered in a clammy sweat, as if he had been running some sort of marathon.

He realized he had no weapons. The last guns he had were accidentally ditched on that moist towelette of a backwater planet, Eden-3. The thought of having no self-defense had made him briefly panicked. After a few minutes, he calmed down when he realized that in the darkness of this tiny room, nothing was here to kill him.

At least, not yet.

His room was quiet. A little too quiet for his liking.  
For a split second, he thought he was in his cell in Promethea again. But alas, he was on a dirty cramped room on Sanctuary, a ship belonging to his former enemies. 

Troy had been too busy examining the charts for the CoV and Maliwan movements that he fell asleep. He must have been exhausted. He heavily fell back onto the thin mattress, the air whooshing out of his lungs as he made contact with the floor. He tried to even out his frantic breathing.

“What the _fuck...”_ He panted.

He pushed the thick curtain of sweaty bangs away from his eyes. He pressed the heel of his hand hard against the space inbetween his brows to relieve the pressure that built up there, trying to unwrinkle the deep furrow from his brows. He closed his eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass, trying and failing to process why his jank, broken brain dreamt up such a terrifying dream.

Troy hadn’t had dreams that vivid since _ever._ Usually, they were vivid flashes of his past. Parts he tried to forget as he descended deeper and further into the cult. A few minutes of ruminating had done nothing but make his insomnia worse. Although he had felt he calmed down, his brain was running a million miles a minute and probably just a million different directions as well.

He tried to calm down. Troy stared up the ceiling.

He tried to roll back into his sleep by pulling the thin sheet over his sweaty body. He forced his tired eyes closed. There were too many factors, distracting ones, preventing him from going back to sleep. For one, his room was too hot. Didn't this ship have climate control? Two, the mattress, some polyurethane slip with cheap plastic fiber stuffing, did nothing to separate him from the metal floor. His bracer and the spinal implant was uncomfortably digging into the meatier part of his shoulder as he turned trying to get 

Fuck, he missed his luxury bed on Pandora. He missed a lot of things actually, but a decent, comfortable bed was one of them.

Third, the ship didn't seem so quiet. Troy could hear the repetitive _tick-tick-ticking_ and rumbling of the ship. Compared to the suspended zen-like quiet of his cell, the hum of machinery rattling the leaky metal ceilings was downright _cacophonous._ The subtle noise was driving him batty. A peculiar part of him missed the silence from his prison cell. 

To pass the time, he began counting down the seconds. Usually, occupying his brain with something else with something as mundane as counting helped him from lingering too long on that horrible, awful dream.

And so began the counting.

At precisely one-thousand-eight-hundred and sixty-four seconds, or slightly over a half hour, Troy let out an aggravated sigh. He found himself tapping his fingers against his abdomen in sync with that fucking ticking that he lost count.

Counting, as it turned out, predictably didn't do shit. He gave the hell up.

“Dammit.” He quietly grumbled, rubbing at his face.

The tall man pulled himself off of the mattress and sat up, stretching the kinks out of his back and shoulders. He stood up, toeing around the darkness of his room until he found his discarded pants near the door. Troy escaped his hot, claustrophobic room and decided to seek out the showers. A shower, preferably an ice cold one, would do him wonders right about now. 

He had gotten good at sneaking around the ship, finding the showers in record time. The doors to the showers hissed open, illuminating the darkened hallway. He peered inside the room took a tentative glance around. 

No one was here, which was perfect. Most of the Raiders were probably in their bunks. Being in a place as crowded like this made him weary as of late, especially with the way everyone had been eyeballing him. His bare feet slapped against the floor and found himself a stall. He shucked off his pants and shoved himself under the freezing spray of water, not bothering to take off his shoulder bracer.

The cold spray was probably what he needed to refocus. He closed his eyes, letting himself comflrtably disassociate after a couple of minutes. The sensation of the icy water didn't even register on his skin.

He was standing in the shower for a couple of minutes until there was an intense sensation that abruptly brought him out if it. 

It was a shock traveling down his spine, spreading down through his legs and out through his toes, like some electrical current. Galvanized, ge flattened himself against the walls like some panicked animal, nostrils flaring and eyes wide, darting around the shower room for some unseen foe.

The ship vibrated and rumbled. He could hear the squealing of heavy metallic somethings from the outside. What the hell was going on? Was there some of indoor car pile-up?

What the fuck is going on?

That uneasy feeling settled in his gut again, somehow knowing that strange sensation he felt was tied to commotion outside. 

His instincts told him to wait inside the shower room. If he stormed out there now, it would only look suspicious. 

He waited a few terse minutes. Five to be exact. 

When there wasn't an angry mob to storm in on him, he threw on his pants and went outside.

\---

Ava set down her pen. Well, it was more like she slammed it down. She had slogged through another brutal pile of paperwork for the night. She had successfully managed to write the gag order.

"I'm _done!_"

Her pen rolled away, off the desk. She bent to pick it up, then hesitated.

Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to test her powers out again. It was just a simple phaselock, right?

She felt the curl of unease in her gut, then ignored it. 

_Right_.

She enveloped the small writing utensil in the familiar blue bubble. Back when she started to get a better handle on her powers, she had learned to pick up smaller objects. It was a simple control exercise. All Ava needed to do was float it into her hand, easy-peasy. It wasn't a big deal.

Afterall, it would be embarrassing if couldn't pull off such a simple task. 

The object wobbled briefly in midair. She was concentrating a little too hard, she realized. She relaxed then directed pointed end went towards her. Ava gently swept her hand in a "come hither" motion. What was supposed to happen was that it was supposed to end up in her hand. 

Instead, the pen shot torwards her like some crude crossbow bolt.

Ava yelped and ducked, feeling the pen skim mere centimeters from the top of her scalp, before hearing a distinct metallic ping. It was her reflexes that saved her from being skewered through the throat. She slowly sat up her position, trying to calm her racing heart. She walked over to the wall to survey the damage.

The plastic pen had somehow embedded itself into the aluminium steel wall. With some effort, she began work it out. 

After their little Vault jaunt to Eden-3, everything had felt off kilter. Her powers hadn't been cooperative. When she had been struck with the flu, there was a strange haze that muddled her powers. When she jad finally gotten over it, she had thought she had gotten a better handle on her powers. For now, she wouldn't worry about it. She could wait a few days and wait for it to taper off. It wasn't too big a deal, she firmly insisted. And if it was, well there was always Tannis.

Even if it involved her being stuck full of needles, or being subjected to whatever madness Tannis had in mind. She guessed she was thankful for Calypso being the lucky scape goat. She shook her head.

_Ugh. Stop thinking about that rat._

It was going to be a cold day in hell before she was thankful towards him in any capacity. Ava finally wrenched the pen out, surprised at the amount of effort it took.

The pen was a lost cause. With a shrug, she threw it into the trash. 

She decided to push it to the back burner... for now.

_This_ was what she was waiting for. She contacted Amara on her ECHO. It was better than catching her in the act with, well, whoever the buff Siren hooked up with at the moment.

"Amara."

"Ava, you ready?"

"Yeah, I'll see you down there in a few. Oh, hey... and Amara?"

"Yes?"

Ava hesitated again. Should she tell Amara about her "little" problem?

She decided against it and shook her head.

"Nevermind."

Ava quickly changed into out of her regular clothes into something more suitable for training. She hurried down to the cargo bay with a quick jog, excited to get some training in. When she wasn't slammed with paperwork, she trained with Amara.

Ava had always wanted to get stronger. She wanted to push herself past her limits. The best way was to learn from the best, and in this case, it was Amara. In the past year, she had gotten better. Her reflexes were faster, and her reaction time had improved. But she could still make better strides. So when she was able, she threw herself into training as hard as she could.

Before Ava was suddenly thrust into leadership, the first person she naturally gravitated towards was Amara. Amara was just the epitome of _cool_ and the younger woman idolized her. Maya had encouraged it, saying that the learning experience would be invaluable. The woman was a Siren, but more importantly, she was a fighter. Though Ava was nervous, she asked the woman to train with her.

"I wanna become stronger," Ava remembered telling Amara, when they got better acquainted with each other. "So I can be cool and kick ass like Maya _and_ you!"

And just like that, Amara had become her willing sparring partner. After Maya's death, Amara had become her mentor, and an even closer friend. If Maya was her mother, then Amara was the older sister she never had. 

Amara was invaluable asset to the Raiders. Strong, dependable. Siren abilities aside, she just kicked ass. She compensated for Ava's weaknesses, of which the inexperienced Commander believed she had many. Ava just wished she could say that whatever Amara lacked, the Siren Commander could do the same.

Preferably, she'd like to train on Promethea. If they were in space, they trained in the cargo bay on Sanctuary. The cargo bay had been the only place that was decently sized and sturdy enough for a good spar, but still, it felt too confined to her liking.

They could only train after Ellie had digistructed her machines away, and Amara couldn't use her powers on the ship. The hefty mechanic would let her wrath be known for days if Amara accidentally destroyed any of her projects. The Partalian had been a surprisingly good sport about it, not minding the self-imposed handicap. Even then, at Ava's insistence, she told Amara never to hold back.

After several minutes of stretching, Amara looked primed and ready for a good spar. She cracked her knuckles and faced Ava.

"Okay then, Ava. Are you ready?"

Ava bowed, slightly her left hand closed over her right fist, the universal sign amongst martial artists to signify that she was ready, then went into a loose stance. She learned Athenian Kung Fu from Maya, a flowing style that put an emphasis on defense and counter attacks.

"Yeah."

The dark-skinned Siren grinned.

"Good." Without any preamble, she launched herself at the smaller woman, immediately going on the offensive.

_Oh shit!_

Ava somehow dodged the first fist.

Training with Amara was like training with hurricane. The seasoned fighter was strong and unpredictable; the title of "The Tiger of Partali" was a well earned one. Ava had thought she kicked ass under Maya's tutelage, but training with Amara was in an entirely different galaxy. It was humbling.

Ava sidestepped the punch, Amara's fist just grazing her cheek. She countered with quick side kick and circled to the side, trying to find an opening.  
She barely dodged another fist that was sent flying her way, then circle blocked Amara's next punch, then countered with two quick jabs on the side, slightly knocking the older woman off-center. She didn't have time time to celebrate it, however. Amara nearly knocked her head clean off her shoulders when she pivoted on her back leg, whirling around with a close handed fist. She lightly leapt backwards, staying a careful distance, trying to get a feel where Amara may strike next.

Amara was a hard mentor. Amara never taunted, but she rarely gave instructions either. She gave Ava three important rules to always follow:

The first was to always watch the shoulders.

The second was to always guard the face.

And the third was to learn how to take a hit.

That... that was the hardest lesson to learn.

Ava didn't consider herself a great fighter, but she had great stamina and was supremely quick on her feet. But like every other sensible person in the galaxy, she preferred to resolve her fights with bullets. However, she was also smart enough to acknowledge that there might be one day where she couldn't use her guns. Training with Amara had forced her to get better, in a smaller amount of time, and to become more cognizant of her opponents.

Amara went low and swept Ava's legs, forcing her on her back. The air punched out of her lungs as she landed. She was forced to roll out of the way before Amara axe kicked her in the chest, then made a messy recovery on her feet. 

Ava had learned a hard lesson in humility.  
It was an invaluable trait she developed when she got her ass handed to her on a silver platter, complete with all the trimmings. The younger Siren dropped the bluster like a dead weight -- trying to act like a badass didn't mean a damned thing if you didn't have the skills to back it. It was so cringy that she tried to act cool, now that she thought about it.

The single most important thing Ava learned while training against was to never, _ever_ get cocky. Amara treated every fight seriously, even with something as casual as a spar. Getting cocky meant that her ass was going to get kicked around like a rusty tin can. The first and last time Ava had gotten cocky with Amara, she ended up in the med bay, resetting several broken bones in both arms and nursing a damaged ego.

There was something about training that felt absolutely cathartic. The adrenaline was singing in the younger Siren's system. A lot of her stress just and melted away, and the only thing she needed to do concentrate on was the fight.

Amara's style was some sort of mixed martial arts that took full advantage of her six arms, pounding her enemies into paste. Even without Amara's terrifying Phase arms, she was still a formidable fighter and a force to be reckoned with. The term "throwing hands" had taken on an entirely different meaning when the Partalian siren threw eight of them.

The brawler constantly kept Ava on her toes. If she didn't pay attention, she was going to catch all eight hands. _Remember your forms,_ she could hear Maya reminding her.

Although it was damn hard when someone who was the equivalent of a hurricane throwing fists at her.

Amara was starting to see a significant change in her pupil. The Tiger threw one of her punches with her right, only to feint and follow up with a vicious cross. 

Except Ava remembered to watch her opponent's shoulder. 

Ava stepped back and used the bottom part of her palm to deflect the fist downward, and countered with a strike to the side of her abs. Punching with the fists involved a lot of technique, you had to be explosive and quick - to punch through a target rather than punch at them. For once, Amara grunted briefly in surprise and staggered slightly backwards. 

Amara was secretly proud of her protegé. Ava was showing significant progress. She was still inexperienced, but she held great promise. This was the first spar where she hadn't landed a hit on Ava. So when the younger Siren was showing signs of improvement, Amara decided it was time to push her harder.

So naturally, when Amara was throwing her punches harder, Ava had noticed the subtle shift. Rather than call a timeout, she went with the flow.

Ava was using her her phaselock abilities to guard herself. A quick barrier would come up to cushion the blows, then a quick countered. She remembered Maya doing the same thing.

Both Sirens were starting to disregard Ellie's "no Siren magic" rule, building up a rhythm. Amara sent out a wave of fists at the younger Siren. In response, Ava brought up and extended her shields to block the blows, then flipped into a well-executed back handspring, lightly landing on her feet. Amara looked surprised that Ava had managed the feat. The older then cracked a grin, breaking her stern façade.

"Acha, you want to go harder then?"

Ava said nothing. She simply went into another stance, open palm beckoning Amara to continue. The Partalian launched into the offensive once more.

Even though Ava was started to get cornered, her confidence was flowing back.

_I can do this!_

Her Siren tattoos glowed brighter in response.

_I can control them now._

Ava had captured the experienced Siren in a phaselock. Amara yelled out in surprise. 

_I feel like I do anything!_

Only she had been too overconfident. Ava felt her powers stutter.

The phaselock sphere had shimmered and faltered, and her Siren opponent sensed it. Taking advantage of the stutter, she conjured her Phase arms and broke out of the bubble, ready to slam down on the younger Siren who was directly beneath her. 

There were only two options. It was either get the hell out of Amara's way or counter it. She didn't have enough space to escape.

She chose the latter. 

Ava went into a firm stance, one foot planted forward as she brought both her hands up and out, conjuring her shield. It was the only way to deflect the onslaught of fists that was being sent her way. Her eyes reflexively squeezed shut as she braced for impact. It was a stupid idea, knowing that it was going to cost her a broken bones in a few seconds.

...

The hits never came.

Ava would never anticipate what would have come next.

Just as she brought her hands together, felt a strong tingle, something similar to an electric current, shoot down her spine, spreading outwards towards her limbs and through the tips of her fingers. Her Siren powers had felt like they involuntarily exploded out of her, like a sun spot bursting out from the surface of a volatile star. Then the sensation was gone.

She heard a surprised un-Amara like yelp.

"Ava! _AVA!_ Look up!" Amara sounded panicked.

_Huh?_ She cracked open an eye, peering through the opening in her arms.

Her eyes eyes flew open in as her hands dropped to her sides, mouth open in shock. She wasn't prepared to see _this._

Countless, phaselock sphere were _everywhere,_ enveloping some of Ellie's half finished projects. Vehicles were floating in the cargo bay, bumping into eachother like anti-grav bumper cars. Amidst the floating chaos, she could see Amara right at the center.

This would have been an awe-inspiring sight to see, if she wasn't the cause of it.

Amara had thought she was about to land a solid hit. Instead she found herself being forcefully propelled upwards, as if she involuntarily hit a trampoline on an awkward bounce. She tried to cancel out the phaselock with her own powers, but found herself locked into place.

"Oh crap-"

Panicked, Ava swept her arm in an attempt to disperse her powers. Instead, she had lifted the vehicles, along with Amara, several feet higher into the air.

"Ava!" Amara yelled. She was going to get squished. 

Predictably, the younger Siren's panic only increased.

"Oh shit! Oh crap! _Oh shit!_" She ineffectively flailed her arms. She was panicking.

"Focus, Ava!" Amara yelled.

_"What in the fresh hell is goin' on here?!"_ Ellie screeched, stomping down into the bay.

The commotion had brought at least a couple of dozen more spectators into the cargo bay. The Raiders were yelling out in surprise, gawking and pointing at the floating vehicles.

Ava concentrated, then realized that she had no idea how to disperse her powers. 

_"I don't know what to do!"_ She yelled out.

"Just... relax!" Amara struggled to say. "Imagine you're holding your breath--"

Ava took several breaths and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to imagine lowering a flame; if she tried to suddenly cancel out her powers, things would turn out catastrophic.

_Just ease 'em down._

The younger Siren thought she was successful. Amara felt herself floating downwards and she breathed a small sigh of relief. Amara failed to notice that the younger Siren had broken out in sweat. 

Managing that many objects at once was a feat for the inexperienced Siren. She has never phaselocked so many things at once, voluntarily or otherwise. Her concentration was waning, and her powers were weakening. One tremble, and it as though a domino effect had occured. Her Siren tattoos puttered out, and it felt as though she was plunged underwater again.

The phaselock bubbles had dispered, and vehicles dispered.

It felt as though time slowed down for those precious few seconds. Some of those machines weighed several tons, she realized.

_Oh crap._

The vehicles fell around her and all she could do was throw herself against a wall to avoid getting crushed. She curled into a small ball, and threw her arms over her face, praying that she wouldn't get crushed.

Ava could hear the squealing of metal and the crunch of glass all around, wincing as Ellie's expensive projects fell all over each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Amara had landed on her feet, then nimbly dove out of the way before the heavy shell of a technical flattened her like a pancake.

When everything had finally become quiet, the only sound Ava could hear was her erratic heartbeat thundering in her ear drums. The loss of her Siren powers had left her feeling suddenly drained. She slid down against the wall, breathing hard in through her nose and out through her mouth, feeling as though as she experienced what she thought was a serious case of vertigo. She stared down at her dulled Siren tattoos. 

And she wondered. 

It took her a full minute to recover. In that time, there were only two thoughts on Ava's mind. The first thought to process what just happened. The second was that she was going to certainly _catch hell_.

She saw a pair of scuffed black boots come into her peripheral view. Blinking, she looked up. Amara was concerned.

"...And I believe we're done for tonight." Amara awkwardly finished. She offerred out a hand and helped Ava to her feet. The fight had left her, and she wasn't keen on continuing anyways. Not with the way she felt Ellie glaring daggers at the both of them from across the cargo bay, clearly primed to give out a tongue lashing.

Ava was immediately apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mara! I don't know what's going on! I feel... I feel like everything's all out of whack!" Ava said breathlessly, rushing to explain.

Amara was at a genuine loss for words, still in shock.

Should she console her pupil? Ava was highly distressed.

"Look, Ava-"

Ellie had interrupted the potentially tender moment, angrily stomping between them. She was madder than an territorial alpha skag.

"What the hell are you two crazy kids doin'?" Ellie fiercely repeated, hands akimbo.

"What damned part of "No siren magic" did either of ya not understand!?" She sharply looked between the two of them, demanding an explanation.

"All I was trying to do was to get some shut eye and then I see my war machines floatin' like it's some sorta low-grav muddin' rally!" The large mechanic turned to the younger Siren, who looked as though she'd been struck.

"I'm sorry, Ellie! I didn't mean to! It just, uh... sort of... _happened?"_ Ava lamely explained. There wasn't any excuse. The Siren powers came out and she just wanted to give it her all.

She further shrank under Ellie's glare. She couldn't pick up a simple pen. Now she was causing an entire bay of vehicles to float? What the hell was going on?

Ellie predictably launched into angry tirade. She tore into both Sirens, brutally ripping them a new one in the process. It had been a good five minutes before she had finally finished. 

"-And another thing, if I catch either of ya'll usin' those powers again, you can find yerselves another damned ship to ruin, y'understand?!"

Ava and even Amara left the bay with their heads hung in shame. 

"We probably shouldn't train in the cargo bay for a while." Amara said, looking at the pile of ruined vehicles in the bay, scattered around like broken toys. They had made a mess of the place. Ava cringed. If she were in Ellie's shoes, she'd be rightly pissed, too.

"How about you go back to your room and meditate, eh? You're still recovering from your sickness." Amara clapped a hand on her shoulder, careful not to seem too coddling. Ava nodded miserably.

"And, uh... what about Ellie?"

To be honest, she was afraid to face the mechanic. Ellie wasn't one to hold grudges, but she would probably have a chip on her shoulder. 

"I'll explain the situation to her." Amara adjusted her sweaty bangs as she adopted a sultry look that made Ava slightly uncomfortable.

"I guess I'll have to... lay on the charm."

"Uh... You do that. And could you tell her I said sorry?"

"Of course. We should talk about this later." There was a swagger to Amara's steps as she strolled towards Ellie. And that was when Ava knew it was her cue to beat a hasty retreat back to her room.

The younger Siren had meditated as per Amara's suggestion, trying to find her center. But it didn't feel right. After about a couple of minutes, she gave up. Ava had more pressing matters to deal with. She had nearly probably killed Amara. And while Ellie was forgiving, she should probably play it safe and stay out of the cargo bay for a couple of days. Or weeks.

The state of her Siren powers had made her uncertain, and if she were honest with herself, Ava had been uncertain about alot of things as of late. She felt stronger, yes, but now she felt like she lacked control. Phaselocking felt like a magnet, spinning in random directions, not knowing which direction it would stick...or repel.

She shuddered to think what would happen if her powers failed her on Eden-3.

Tannis could help her. The scientist always seemed to have an answer for all things Siren. Hell, she should have went to her in the first place.

For now, all she wanted was a shower to clear her head a little. She pulled put her ECHO, synching her favorite headphones through DAHLtooth, brought up a random playlist, putting the music on full blast. Ava threw a towel around her shoulders.

She was far too focused on her ECHO, bobbing her head in time with the music that she didn't notice the much taller figure that rounded the corner. Ava had bumped into them. She had been drawing up some more plans, too caught up to notice who she had run into. 

“Oh! I’m sorry-“ She looked up as she pulled off her headphones. Her apologetic expression turned to one of stony disdain when she looked up at Troy.

It seemed that he had retreated down near the docks to have a quick shower himself. He had done a fantastic job of making himself scarce. This was the first time she'd seen him after filling out paperwork with Rhys. She remembered the harsh words she imparted to him a couple of days back.

She wasn't supposed to meet him until he had drawn up a plan on how to deal with the CoV. She had to remember her conversation with Rhys. Once Troy fulfilled his contract, she wouldn't have to deal with him ever again. If Eden-3 was only a trial run, then she'd truly have to learn how to deal with him in the long term.

It still didn't stop the displeasure she felt upon seeing him, however. She regarded him with an icy glare.

“It’s... _you.”_ She said, trying and failing to keep the venom out of her voice. The man swore he could feel the air freeze up around them as their eyes met. In that second, Troy felt something tingling down the base of his spine.

He just knew it was barely concealed contempt. It was disturbing.

He automatically dismissed it. He was being paranoid. 

He stiffened up, lax posture straightening as he cautiously regarded her, like he was sizing her up. The hand that was drying off his hair dropped to his side, clenching. In response, she straightened up as well, taking just a cautious half-step back. Neither of them moved, just staying out of arm's reach. There was a huge height difference, she realized. He could probably pluck her off the ground.

If he tried anything, she was confident she could deal with him, the "dog collar" be damned.

_He's just toweling off his hair._ _There's no reason to be scared of him,_ she rational side urged. _None whatsoever._

Yet she still found herself tensing. They stared each other down.

Ava never expected to see him like this, however. This state of dress made him look vulnerable... exposed. He looked different without the monstrous, mechanical arm or the coat. Even though he was tall, he seemed so bony. There was a frail quality to his tall frame, bones shifting underneath the fragile skin.

The towel had covered his right shoulder.

Ava half- expected that arm to hidden underneath anyways.

There was still that predatory air that hung around him. An imposing undercurrent of danger that made her weary. The hallway was somewhat dark, the only thing she could distinctly make out was soft glow of his red tattoos. This was a man that, not too long ago, beat a bandit's face in to an unrecognizable pulp with his single hand.

He was watching her, noticing how her eyes lingered on his right shoulder. He drew his right side back, away and out of her sight. The music from her headphones was still blaring away, cutting through an otherwise terse silence. It was a hard sounding rock ballad with some sultry, feminine vocals.

Troy lost his nerve first. He knew better than to antagonize her with his presence alone. He knew he was pissing her off plenty just by being near her.

“Yeah... It’s me.”

Troy wasn’t willing to instigate any confrontation with her. He wasn’t going to tolerate any more weird, bipolar shit from her. If she wasn't going to be civil, he wasn't going to go out of his way to encourage her.

“Sorry.” He curtly apologized, not knowing why -- Eridians forbid he hadn't done anything. He cut across from her, abruptly walking past her, clinging as close to the opposite side of the hall to some distance between them. He left before she could get a word-in edgewise.

Ava stared at his retreating back.

For a brief second, she wondered if he felt that shockwave, too.

\---

He paced in his room. Angrily.

Their brief exchange had gotten him far too worked up for his own good. He didn't even know why it bothered him. She was a damn brat who obviously didn't know her place-

_She could have killed you. Threw you to the dogs._

He let out an irrational growl.

_Tick._

Ignoring the ticking, he pulled out his ECHO to look at the charts again. If their next destination was Hephaestus then-

Tick-tick-tick- 

Maliwan would definitely try to attack Hephaestus' main hub-

_Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!_

"Rrgh, dammit!" He nearly flung his ECHO at the wall in a bout of irrational anger. Then he stopped himself. That infernal fucking ticking was driving him up the wall again. It sounded like an engine misfiring.

War plans could wait. He had a better idea. 

Sanctuary was an admirable piece shit. But it was a piece of shit nonetheless. It rattled hard in several places that he knew was compromised in the interior. It made him jumpy when he heard the near bucket of bolts go into hyperdrive. He wasn’t jazzed to have his cells ripped apart if (or rather _when_, by the sounds of it) the ship broke off in pieces as it tore through the fabric of space. There was no goddamned way he was going to die in space.

The main problem had been the engine. Ever since he came aboard Sanctuary, he was itching to take a look inside.

Getting fully dressed, he ducked out his room with his lifted toolbox to find that engine.

Fuck, this shit can needed repairs.

\---

Ellie had been running diagnostics on her ship and frowned. The whole Siren magic fiasco had given her a damn headache. She couldn't be too angry at the younger Siren, but she was miffed that Ava had undone months of hard work by just by sparring.

Everything was a mess.

Sanctuary was a mess, but it was _her mess,_ dammit!

She had more pressing matters to attend to.  
The head mechanic wasn’t going to deny that Sanc-3 wasn’t exactly falling apart, but it had sure seen its share of better days. So many return trips to and back had put a considerable amount of stress on the quantum hyperdrive engine. 

She had been swamped with a heavy workload. The jobs that she had assigned the younger mechanics to had redone and Ellie was just at her wit's end. She didn't mean to tear into the Sirens, but she was _stressed_. Everyone was. 

The past couple of days, certain parts of the ship had been repaired. When she went to check, bolts had been re-stripped and soldered down tight. It was a basic, neat job. The cross welding almost reminded her of Scooter. It could have been with a heavier hand, but had gotten the job done. Whoever this mysterious individual was, they’d been awful kind enough save her on their ship repair monthly budget.

This behavior had gotten Ellie’s attention, and determined, she set out to find the this mysterious ghost that was fixing her ship. 

\---

When everyone had hit lights out, he sought out the hyperdrive engine.

It was a thing of beauty, he could admit. Sleek in design, but there was something about it that felt as slapdash as the crew members on Sanctuary. He set down the ladder and stepped up, feeling for the paneling. He slammed his fist against the corner, forcing it to pop out. He craned his head and looked inside, sharp eyes immeadiately catching the problem. The one main manifold valves connecting to the outer combustion chamber had been improperly set. He lightly tapped around for several places, and found that the tritanium bearings had become dangerously loose.

Holy shit.

Such a simple mistake could have killed everyone on this ship. He was thankful he had listened to his gut feeling, then heavily scowled.

God, these Raiders were fucking incompetent.

The engine had been idling, so it was running hot. No problem, all he needed to do was redirect a coolant pipe and he dramatically reduced his chances of getting burned. 

He began to steadily work at the first bearing. It wasn't even a minute until he felt someone's voice, loud and accusatory, right behind where he was standing. It was loud and overbearing and right behind him.

“What in fresh hell are ya doin’?!" She hollered. 

He jumped and hit his head on the panel.

"Fuck!" He cursed. 

He craned his head over his shoulder to see who had invaded his space. He saw a woman slightly smaller than the soldier lady's war mech, and probably just as physically strong, glaring at him with open hostility. He wracked his brains for a second, than remembered that her name was Ellie.

He recalled she seemed alot more cheerful.

Ellie finally caught the mystery mechanic in the act. Despite her bulk, she could be stealthy when she wanted to be. She stared up at him, one hand stuck on her hip while a pneumatic drill was clenched in a white knuckled grip in the other. Her lips were pursed together, eyes slanted in an accusatory glare.

He hoped she wasn't going to use that drill on him.

Troy stared at the woman who was encroaching on his space. The first word that came to mind was _hefty._ While he'd seen he before, he never seen her this close. Now that he'd thought about it, she probably wouldn't be thrilled to find a former enemy picking away at her engine. He was starting to think his anonymous good deeds maybe wasn’t a good idea after all. However, he refused to be intimidated.

Like the other Raiders, Ellie had kept a careful distance from Troy. Outta respect for the Commander, Ellie complied with Ava's strict orders not to fuck with him.

The bitter feeling of losing Maya still stung when she looked at this wretch. The mechanic was certain that if he tried anything funny, she was gonna knock him over and break that skinny body over her knee.

Now it seemed he was giving her a reason. Perfect.

She adjusted her hold on the drill. She noticed the man's eyes darting downwards before darting back up again. 

“You're having engine problems." He said without any hesitation. He reached up with the wrench, indicating the problem.

_That_ gave her pause.

"Excuse me, say _what now?"_ She asked, clearly primed for a fight. He figured that she had designed the ship, and any flaw could be perceived as an insult. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"See the manifold take there? Some dumb fuck got the job half-done. You're lucky you didn't jump. One or two more and the engine would've blown out."

There was _no way._ Troy Calypso had to be lying. With a decisive nod, the mechanic thundered up to his side. There was no way other to describe how she moved.

"Move aside." She roughly shoved his gangly frame to the side, moving up the ladder with surprising deftness to check what he'd been blabbering on about.

"Ain't no damn way..." She barked.

She trailed off.

The woman's eyes lit up in anger when she saw that indeed, Troy was right.

"Rrgh, _dammit_." Now, she was rightly pissed.

"What the HELL." She growled, stepping down from the ladder. "I thought Spence was s'posed to fix that a coupla days ago! Why I oughta do down there and strangle him myself!"

"You should kill him and use his body for biofuel." Troy was only half-joking. He had no idea who "Spence" was, but he was a fucking moron who deserved no less for nearly killing everyone in space.

Meanwhile, Ellie was irate that of all the people on Sanctuary, it was Rat Boy who found out.

"Thought we had a gremlin mighty kind enough to fix my ship, but I get a creepy rat-boy instead.” She sounded suddenly accusatory, leveling a glare up at the former cult leader.

Troy scoffed. He tried to actually do some good, and this was the thanks he got? Fuckin' ridiculous. At first, he was tempted tp say something rude, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t out to start a fight. 

“Fine. _Sorry_." He said curtly. "I’ll just go—“ 

“Now, wait just a minute! I didn’t say y’all could stop.” Ellie drawled. Troy stopped in his tracks and stood there, turning to her uncertainly.

“But—“ 

“Show me what ya got, _rat boy._" She insisted, gesturing towards the ladder. Her voice was still firm, but not unkind.

Troy hesitated. But this was first time someone didn't treat him like shit.

Eh. Why the hell not. 

He felt like here was being put under some sort of test. Troy just nodded warily. He glanced over his shoulder just to make sure she wasn't going to knock him over. With a determined nod, he went up the step ladder again and began to strip the bolts.

Ellie watched in thoughtful silence. He was methodical and efficient, she could begrudgingly admit. The more he worked, the more her hostile attitude slowly dropped away. 

"Yer pretty good for a guy with one arm.” Ellie bluntly commented.

Troy grunted as he loosened the final bolt, watching it fall into the circular catch pan, then peered down the ladder to stare down at her.

“Gotta be. Lived most my life with only one.” He didn't know why he revealed that. She probably didn't care.

"You mean ta tell me you didn't have that hulkin' arm all the time?" She asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"The arm came later. Part of my trash punk aesthetic, I guess." He gave her a tight smile. 

He wondered what happened to it. Even though it was a junky piece of shit, he was still fond of it.

Ellie smirked up at him. She had an idea in her head. 

"I can't get you a new arm, but I sure as hell can get you better tools."

After a couple of hours, they had managed to successfully repair the engine. Go do this, go do that. She'd point him at something and he'd get it done in no time. The creepy rat-boy was good, Ellie could admit. He rarely needed direction and he did a helluva lot better than most of the mechanics on the ship. 

A complex job that would have taken hours by the mechanical crew was done in the fraction of the time, thanks to Calypso.

"Got it!" Troy exclaimed, his face turned in a half- turned smile. He quickly suppressed it.

They were done. All of the monthly repairs had been done. 

"Now you hold on tight." Ellie instructed him. "I'll be right back."

She grabbed them beers from the cooler near the cargo bay, handing one to Troy. He easily popped off the cap by holding the beer his knees. He took a deep sip. The beer wasn’t anything special, but he wasn’t in any position to complain. It had been a while since he had anything alcoholic. They spent the first few minutes in comfortable silence. Well, it was probably comfortable for Ellie. She regarded the tall man, face carefully neutral.

She decided to break the ice first. 

“I gotta say, you did a pretty good job. Not good as my brother’s, mind.” She started by way of conversation. Troy fiddled with his beer, turning it in his hand. He had no idea who her brother was, but he'd like to meet him.

"So, uh..." He taking a sip of took a liberal sip of his beer. "Does that mean you trust me? With the ship, I mean." He awkwardly finished.

"Calypso, don't take this the wrong way, but jest because you treat machines well, don't mean I trust ya."

Hmm.

This was an perfect opportunity to butter her up.

“Your ship’s impressive.” Troy admitted. “I’ve seen a lot of ships with a multicore quantum hyperdrive engine, but I’ve never seen one runs on biofuel. That's a Hyperion make, right? Blackhole class. The jumps you get outta that must be pretty efficient.”

There was an awkward beat of silence from Troy. He nervously turned the bottle in his hand, against his thigh. He expected her to berate him, but she shot him a half-smirk instead. 

“To be honest, I still don’t like ya, Calypso.” Ellie bluntly told him, getting straight to the heart of the matter.

_Who does? _He wanted to remark. He nodded at her to continue. 

“But, any man who treats machines with respect is someone I can count on. 'Sides, we need all the help we can get.”

Before they knew it, they were talking shop. Technical, jargon-y terms that people outside the realm of mechanical expertise wouldn't understand.  
Troy unashamedly buttered the ship's mechanic up.

“Well, shoot! Keep this up I might let’cha downstairs to see all the sick war machines I keep in the bay.” Ellie said with a wink.

He visibly perked up. 

“Really? That’d be... That’d be great.” He quietly admitted.

"I'll talk to the Commander and give her the heads up that you'll be workin' with me." 

“There’s only one catch. You gotta tell me when you decide ta fix up the ship. Don’t want anymore rats scamperin’ about.” She said with a joking wink. Troy nodded. For the first time in a while, there was a small, so small it was almost unnoticable, but genuine smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I got it."

“Then it's settled."

“Thanks.” He took a sip. 

"Oh! And another thing... Don't _ever_ break the Raiders' trust... Y'hear me? Otherwise, I'm gonna do whatever Ava does to ya look like a walk in the park. Assumin' Amara leaves ya alive. Got it?" 

Troy suppressed the urge to gulp. What they were going to do to him, he decided wasn't worth knowing. Why the fuck were the women on this ship capable of being so terrifying? 

"Uh... Deal."

"Awesome. Welcome to Sanctuary-III, Beanpole!" She officially welcomed him. She held out her beer. Troy clinked the bottom of his beer against hers.

_Beanpole?_ Not the worst name he's been called, but it was much better than rat boy. 

And that was the start of Troy’s tentative friendship with the Raiders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy sheeeet i hate myself for taking so long to update~ 
> 
> So long story short, I decided to take a break. Life got stupid hectic and I put this story on the backburner. My life only got busier before this CoVID shit hit the fan. I hope this chapter makes up for it.
> 
> More importantly, I hope you're all doing well. We've fallen on hard times, and I feel that just a little escapism is what we need right now. You're mental and physical wellbeing is important during these times.
> 
> Once again, thanks for everyone who reads this story. Please don't forget to leave feedback, it's the fuel that keeps me going. I also took the plunge and made a Tumblr! If you guys wanna share my story or interact with me in any way, feel free. All my dumb HCs can be found there.
> 
> nocturnal-divide.tumblr.com


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